


A Knight In Shining Armour

by gaysadandtired



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Village, Bakery, Blood and Injury, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING, Knight Yuta, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nakamoto Yuta is Whipped, Strangers to Lovers, ambiguous fantasy setting, baker doyoung, there's mentions of jaewin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysadandtired/pseuds/gaysadandtired
Summary: Doyoung was happy with his life, no matter how mundane and predictable it may have been. He was content with his daily routine, his small home and his bakery. Doyoung didn't need anything else.That was until Yuta - an injured, bloodied stranger who collapsed onto Doyoung's floor and tipped the world off its axis.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 23
Kudos: 154
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	A Knight In Shining Armour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thereisnoreality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/gifts).



> Hello! Hope everyone is having a good time. It's been an absolute pleasure writing this so I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> I know the prompt said to make it cutsey and domestic and I tried to do that, but I feel like I didn't do the best in that aspect. I mainly focused on the healing and hurt/comfort part of the prompt. But don't worry, there's till some cute shit in here ❤
> 
> As for warnings: blood and injuries are described - not in a lot of detail but still, there's also parts where Doyoung stitches Yuta up - still, not great detail but I'm just putting it out there, Yuta also mentions a few time how he wishes he hadn't survived because of guilt but it's nothing that disturbing (I hope), and of course there's also the smut.
> 
> With that out of the way, enjoy some DoYu!!

Doyoung loved his life. How could he not? He had everything he ever needed to be happy; a roof over his head, a loving group of friends, a business which gave him joy, and enough pastries and baked goods to last multiple lifetimes. 

So yes, Doyoung was happy. He was happy with how things turned out for him. After all, he achieved his dreams of opening his very own bakery in the neighbouring village to the one he grew up in. He was independent, providing for himself and even helping others with what money he earned. He made his dreams come true. 

He was happy. 

Definitely happy. 

As defensive as he was and as disingenuous it sounded, he truly didn’t want anything more from life. Though every day was practically the same, and though he saw pretty much the same faces on a daily basis, he was content. Doyoung wasn’t much of a thrill seeker; in fact, he hated anything too wild and out of the ordinary. One time, Taeil – one of his closest friends – suggested going on a hike with Doyoung and the rest of his friends. 

Doyoung agreed, but he regretted it the moment he met up with his group of friends. It was too tiring, too hot and dirty, and Doyoung found no pleasure nor meaning in the outing. Doyoung didn’t mind if his friends called him boring and uptight, he really couldn’t care less about that. He preferred to do nothing but stay in his bakery, maybe read a book with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, or even take a short stroll around the village. 

Doyoung was content with living a mundane life. He was fine with it and it made him happy, so he didn’t feel as if he was missing out on activities and outings. He loved predictability – it made him feel at ease, so why should he have to change what made him content? To him, the most exciting thing to do was follow his personal day-to-day routine. 

Wake up at 6am. Take a brisk shower. Get dressed. Brew coffee. Make breakfast consisting of either cereal, pancakes, or a rendition of eggs with toasted bread. Brush his teeth. Go downstairs. Prepare the displays and fill them up with fresh goods. Wait for Jaehyun – his friend and also member of staff. Open the bakery. 

It was a simple routine, and though it varied slightly on the weekends when Doyoung didn’t have his bakery open as early, at least it was similar. 

And it worked. Doyoung was satisfied with this routine, and that’s all that mattered. He was living his life for himself so he didn’t need to please anyone else. As long as Doyoung was happy and content with his life, he didn’t care what other thought of it. 

Doyoung was in the middle of filling up the displays with a fresh batch of bread rolls he just pulled out of the oven, carefully placing them in woven baskets, each roll placed neatly to show off just how perfect they were. He took great pride in what he did, striving for perfection to share the same joy baking gave him. And it paid off; his goods were the hit of the town, beloved by everyone. Having so many of the town’s people adore his baked goods truly filled him with an indescribable amount of pride. Sure, maybe he was the only bakery in miles – the closest one being in the next town over which was at least an hour horse ride – but that didn’t dismiss just how much he and his goods were loved. 

Even Mrs Han, the village doctor, said that Doyoung’s buns and bread and cupcakes were far superior to the ones in the neighbouring town. She was a reliable source since she often went to said neighbouring town, sometimes on business but usually just to see her daughter and grandson. Mrs Han would never lie, so yes, Doyoung took great pride in what he did. 

He had just finished with setting out the bread rolls out on display when the doors to the bakery swung open with a gentle chime announcing a new arrival. Doyoung didn’t even have to look up to know who it was that just walked in. 

“You didn’t clean up last night,” Doyoung said, looking up at Jaehyun. He crossed his arms, lips in a thin line. 

Jaehyun cringed, knowing full well he was guilty. “Sorry,” he apologised softly. “I was in a rush. I’ll make it up to you today.” 

Doyoung raised his brow, scanning the younger man with his sharp eyes. He honestly couldn’t be mad at Jaehyun, even if he did sometimes get on his nerves so badly that Doyoung would result in, what his friends referred to as, insistent nagging. Because no, Doyoung didn’t yell – he wasn’t even sure if he knew how to yell or get angry for that matter – he only started complaining. And once he got to that point, he would make sure everyone around him would feel like they were in the deepest pits of hell. 

But for today, he would spare Jaehyun the dreaded nag. 

“You’re forgiven,” Doyoung said, dismissing the ordeal with his hand. “Just make sure the workplace is clean before you leave next time.” 

Jaehyun nodded, a wide smile finding its way onto his face, his dimples visible in his doughy cheeks. Sometimes, Doyoung thought that a bakery was the perfect place for Jaehyun to end up working, mainly because he resembled a nice loaf of bread himself – in the nicest way possible. The man was sweet and Doyoung had grown fond of him soon after Jaehyun started working under Doyoung, so, when Jaehyun ended up dating Sicheng who was one of Doyoung’s closest friends, it only felt right to befriend Jaehyun too. 

“Will do!” Jaehyun stated, walking over to make his way behind the counter. He grabbed his apron from the rack he left it on yesterday, expertly tying it behind his back. “Have you piped the cupcakes yet?” 

“No,” Doyoung replied, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “They should be cool now so how about you do it.” 

The employee hummed, making his way to the kitchen to do his job. He knew exactly what to do so Doyoung would leave him to it whilst he did his last run around the bakery, setting out the small tables and chairs for his patron to sit and enjoy their treats. 

This was everything he ever needed; nothing more and nothing less. 

*** 

“I’m all done,” Jaehyun announced, untying his apron, carefully hanging it back on the rack by the counter. “I cleaned up and wiped everything down twice. There shouldn’t be a speck of dust in the kitchen.” 

Doyoung smiled, looking up at the younger man. “Thanks, Jae. See you tomorrow.” 

Jaehyun nodded, returning Doyoung’s smile. 

“Tell Sicheng I said hi.” 

“Will do! I’ll get going now,” Jaehyun announced, clutching onto the paper bag with some of the goods that didn’t sell today. It would have been a total waste to just throw them away, so Doyoung usually would give some things out to Jaehyun to take home to Sicheng, or he’d take the things for himself or give them out to some of the kids still playing out by the time he closes his shop. 

Either way, nothing went to waste. 

When Jaehyun left, Doyoung resumed counting the cash that’s been earned over the course of the day. The business did pretty well – better than average, so Doyoung was rather pleased with that. 

Once he was done, it was time to sort the money into a few stacks. He set aside the money Jaehyun earned that day which would join the rest of the man’s earning from the couple past days. Doyoung would be handing over the accumulated stack to the younger at the start of the next week. He also put away the money to pay all the expenses, including bills and supplies. Then, he left some cash for tomorrow as change, and finally, taking the rest for himself. 

He really had it good. Doyoung had plenty, far more than he’d ever need to lead a calm and happy life as he has until this point in time. 

Satisfied with everything, Doyoung walked over to the front to close the door. He checked it a few times, ensuring that they were locked properly. He hummed, satisfied with the doors staying closed despite the force he was using against them. 

Doyoung then did the same with the back doors, shutting all the curtains on his way. 

Finally, all locked up, Doyoung took the money from the counter, turned off all the lights and then made his way up the small set of stairs at the back of the building to go up to his small home. Everything was exactly as he had left it, which was just what he expected. It made him feel at ease walking into his room, his own four walls comforting him after a busy day of work. 

He carefully placed his earnings away with the rest of his cash, beginning to undress slowly afterwards. 

Doyoung undid the buttons of his white blouse, slipping out of the garment. He threw it into his clothes hamper which was bound to be emptied on Sunday, aka his washing day. Next, the man slipped out of his pants, folding them neatly and setting them aside for tomorrow. Afterwards, he put on his comfy pyjamas, the fabric soft and warm, like an embrace from someone you loved. 

Or at least that’s what Doyoung imagined that sensation to feel like. After all, he’s never experienced something like that – apart from the multitude of hugs he’s received from his family. Those were different. But Doyoung didn’t linger on that for too long; he’s never been too bothered about relationships and love, so he never gave them much thought. But, he did imagine it would be nice to be held so tenderly, even if for just a fleeting moment. 

It was still relatively early, however the man felt somewhat tired so after a nice cup of tea and a light meal, he planned on going straight to sleep. Maybe it had to do with the weather, as Doyoung had a tendency to wear out quickly once the days grew shorter and the weather dropped. Plus, the rain today didn’t help. The sky looked gloomy and depressed as it continued to shower through the course of the day.

As dreary as it was, Doyoung had to admit that the rain was pretty. There was something so serene and calming about it – the way it just fell without a single care. Raindrops stained the glass pane windows, intricate paths running down the smooth surface. 

Doyoung hummed, walking into the small kitchen he had upstairs; it was far more modest when compared to the kitchen he had downstairs in his shop. There was sufficient room for him to prepare his meals and drinks, so it was enough for him since he wasn’t the type to go all out and cook any grand meals. 

The man poured a mug full of water into his kettle, setting the it on the stove. He lit the flame beneath the kettle, using the time the water took to boil to grab a mug and put his preferred choice of tea into it. 

He yawned, leaning up against one of the kitchen counters as he waited. He really was tired. Hopefully, he’d end up going to sleep early so that he would be well rested for the day ahead of him. After that, it would be Saturday already, meaning Doyoung could sleep in for just a bit longer and he would also close earlier, giving him some time to get used to the colder shift in temperature. 

Doyoung liked autumn, but that didn’t mean that it made him exactly happy. He liked the atmosphere, the way the leaves on trees grew golden, and the way he could wear multiple layers, always feeling comfortable in his favourite woolly sweaters.

Doyoung loved that a lot, but he had a problem with how cold and gloomy it could get; he usually felt the effect by becoming tired easily just as he had felt today, but he also experienced the shift in seasons through more frequent headaches or aching knees. Sicheng called him dramatic, but Doyoung knew exactly how his body reacted. 

Finally, the water had boiled. The kettle whistled and Doyoung quickly took it off the stove, extinguishing the burning flame before he poured the piping hot water into his mug. 

He stirred the drink around, adding a flat teaspoon of sugar. The man then took the drink to his decently sized living room, placing it down on his small wooden coffee table. He sat himself down in his armchair, considering grabbing a book for a split second before deciding he didn’t have the energy to read; if he did go grab a book, all the words would end up blurring together and he wouldn't understand a single thing which meant he’d have to read over the same extract another day. 

Doyoung would just sit around, enjoying how the rain sounded as if poured down outside, the drops hitting his windows. Rain definitely was nice if you were somewhere warm and cosy, safe from the forces of nature. 

Jaehyun didn’t live too far away, but Doyoung still hoped the man managed to get back without having to experience the worst of the rainfall. It would be a shame if the younger got sick – not just because he was Doyoung’s only employee, but because Doyoung cared about his friends. 

And he cared about Sicheng’s sanity if he had to put up and care of Jaehyun’s whiny, overdramatic self if he did get sick. Sicheng would probably end up coming to Doyoung to complain, and he really didn’t need that. 

So, Doyoung hoped Jaehyun missed the heavy rain. 

Being outside right now was probably miserable; it was dark, cold, and the rain only seemed to get harsher with every minute which ticked by. In all honesty, Doyoung started to worry that there may be some flooding by the time morning comes. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen, but the past few years have been relatively safe if not for that one time late last October when the small bar located near the outskirts of the village had water seep in through the tiny gap under the doors, soaking the wooden floors and ruining some of the carpets and rugs. 

At least Doyoung was safe, luckily located at the highest point of the village. He didn’t stress too much about the possibility of having his bakery and home drowned from some rain, but he did think about all the people living lower down the slight inclination. 

As he was taking small sips of his drink, eyes focused on the view outside of his window, Doyoung couldn’t help but notice a series of strange noises coming from the outside. At first, he thought he was just hearing things, or that maybe one of his neighbours was just throwing things away around the back, but who would do that in the middle of such heavy downpour? 

Doyoung paused, freezing where he sat to see if he could hear the sound again. 

For a minute, there was silence – the type that felt wrong, too unnerving in nature. 

And there it was again. 

He didn’t know what the noise was. It sounded like wailing or groaning, but there was also other, less human, sounds. Maybe there was a scuffle going around the back of Doyoung’s house. Though that didn’t seem too plausible, it was the only reasonable explanation the man had for the sounds. 

There was a semi loud crash as something came toppling over. It sounded like some of the brooms and rakes Doyoung had stored outside came toppling down. 

Then another moment of silence. 

Truly, Doyoung slowly began to panic now. Whatever was happening, it was happening in the back of his home and bakery. There was the possibility that it was only some wild animal, maybe a fox or raccoon, seeking shelter. But there was also a chance that it was something far worse such as a burglar. 

Whatever or whoever it was, Doyoung couldn’t let it come inside. 

The man carefully placed his drink back down, looking around his immediate living space to find a weapon. The only things he could find were a sharp knife and a rolling pin. Just in the case a knife was far too drastic of a weapon, he brought both. 

Doyoung walked down the stairs, holding the two items close to his chest. He was cautious as to not make any noise, avoiding one of the steps he knew would creak under his weight. 

The noises were more audible now that Doyoung was closer to the back door. The noise was far too loud to come from just a small critter. It was definitely a person which filled Doyoung with sheer panic, his body being sent into overdrive as adrenaline pumped through him. 

But it was the loud bang on the door that did it for Doyoung. 

His heart sank, the blood draining from his face until he was as pale as a sheet of paper. 

Another bang. 

And another. 

And then it stopped. 

Doyoung stood by the door, waiting and waiting for another loud noise, but it never came. 

The silence was worrying, but not it quite the same way as it was before. If there was a person outside, why did they stop? Did they leave? Were they playing mind games with Doyoung, hoping the man would open up so that they could sneak up on him? 

There were a million thoughts filtering through Doyoung’s head, but he would never know until he checked. 

It was times like these where he wished he had a door with a peep-hole. Things would have been so much easier that way. 

With a deep and shaky inhale, Doyoung unlocked the door. Once he heard the click of them being unlocked, he reached for the doorknob. 

To his terror and surprise, the doors slung open by their own accord. It wasn’t because there was someone on the other side purposefully pushing the door open, but because there was a limp body leaning heavily over the wood. The deadweight on the unidentified figure made the doors open, the body collapsing on the floor of Doyoung’s bakery. 

Doyoung jumped back, eyes wide in horror at the sight. 

There was a body on his floor. 

An actual body. 

He stood paralysed, eyes shifting around to scan his surroundings and make sense of his situation. 

But it was true; right there, on the floor to his bakery, was the body of what seemed to be a man, his clothes soaked to the bone from the unforgiving downpour outside. Doyoung didn’t know what to do, utterly baffled and petrified at the position he found himself in. What was he supposed to do? He’s never had anything like this happen to him in his whole life, of course he was frozen in place! 

However, the initial panic wore off soon enough and Doyoung realised that he had to act now. He placed the weapons he had brought with him on the floor, keeping a note of where they were just in case. 

Not wasting any more time, Doyoung heaved the man inside. He was heavy in his incapacitated state. Somehow, Doyoung was able to drag all of him inside, quickly closing the back door to not let any rain and cold air in. He locked it so that nobody else would be able to come in before he took care of the weakened man in front of him. At least he hoped it was weakened and not just an act to catch him off-guard. 

It didn’t seem like it though. Whoever this person was, they clearly were knocked out cold, for better or for worse. 

Doyoung rolled the body over so that the person would be laid on their back. The first thing he saw was the face. First and foremost, he confirmed that the body was indeed a man – quite an attractive one at that, but Doyoung couldn’t really get that much of a good look when the man’s face was covered in scratches and wounds, just like the rest of his body. 

And there was a lot. The cuts varied in size and location, and Doyoung couldn’t begin to estimate how many there were considering the amount of blood soaking through the man’s clothing. He was drenched from head to toe from the blood and rain. 

Finally, Doyoung reacted accordingly to the situation. He bent down, hooking his arms around the limp body, using all the strength that he had to lift the injured stranger up and heave him up the stairs. It wasn’t easy, but it had to be done. 

Doyoung struggled, but he was able to get the man upstairs. There weren’t many places to lay the man down so Doyoung decided to take him to his room. He laid the stranger in his bed, accepting the fact that he’d have to sleep in the living room for tonight. That didn’t annoy him though, tending to and helping an injured person was far more important than sleeping right now – even if he was so tired just moments ago. The events unfolding in front of him had woken him right up, body fuelled by adrenaline. 

The first thing Doyoung did after setting the man down in his bed was rush to his bathroom, searching for the small medical kit he kept there. He barely ever used it so it didn’t take more than a few seconds to come back to his bedroom with it. 

He quickly opened the box, placing it down by the bed. 

Next, he actually had to get a good idea of what he was working with. That required peeling off the layers of rain and blood-soaked clothing. 

Doyoung glanced at the man, checking if he was still passed out. The man’s relaxed facial expression and the slow, weak rise and fall of his chest announced that he was in fact passed out but luckily alive. 

If Doyoung didn’t do anything soon, there was a chance that the man wouldn’t make it through the night, so he had to act now. 

It felt wrong undressing the stranger, but it was what Doyoung had to do. He carefully took off the various layers, the items weighed down with how much liquid they had soaked up. Doyoung placed them by his dirty clothes hamper, deciding he’d hand wash the clothes earlier than his own clothes. 

As he was taking off the multitude layers of fabric, Doyoung noticed a familiar insignia embroidered into the stranger's garments. Of course, it was difficult to see, drenched in a horrid shade of blood, but Doyoung was confident he had seen it before. Maybe he would remember the insignia in the morning once he was more in the right state of mind and not pumped up on adrenaline to think about such insignificant details. 

Thankfully, Doyoung had stripped the man of his clothing. He would cover him up soon enough, but he needed to get a grasp on the injuries plaguing the stranger’s body. 

It was worse than Doyoung imagined. 

Whatever happened, the man had attempted to tend to his own wounds, using what were clearly scraps of his own clothes to tie around the larger gashes. They were all red, soaked through with the man’s spilled blood. Who knew how long the stranger had kept those makeshift bandages on without changing them? If he had them for too long, Doyoung worried the wounds would become infected. 

Doyoung quickly cut the bandages off with the pair of scissors in his first aid kit. He stared at the deep cuts in horror, feeling like he could throw up at the sight. Doyoung didn’t have the stomach for these things, so seeing a man with wounds this deep, most likely caused by swords, it really tested his resilience and determination to help others. 

He looked away for a second to lessen the nausea, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. 

After a short breather, Doyoung looked back. He could count four major wounds, the one at the man’s left side being the most severe of them all. Whoever caused that was going in for the kill. And maybe they would have succeeded, because Doyoung sure wouldn’t have been able to survive such horrors and such suffering, but they didn’t. 

Luckily though, at least there didn’t seem to be any broken bones. There was that much. 

The man had a lot of will to live if the fact he was still alive went to show anything. So many injuries, yet he still was breathing, his heart still beating. 

Doyoung didn’t have any time to be awed by the stranger’s strength. He pulled out plenty of bandages, rubbing alcohol and anything else that would come useful in tending to the man’s wounds. He first had to clean the stranger up, ensuring that his cuts were properly taken care of to not let them get infected. 

Thankfully the stranger wasn’t awake for this part of the process, because it would definitely sting. 

*** 

“You don’t look too good,” Jaehyun pointed out after he finished serving their latest customer. It was only halfway through the day, but Doyoung looked like he was ready fall asleep where he stood. “Did you get any sleep?” 

“Not really,” Doyoung replied, his eyes closing on their own accord. If he couldn’t pull himself together then he’d end up burning the last small batch of buns and he couldn’t let that happen; they were a special request so it wouldn’t be a good look on Doyoung if he couldn’t keep a customer’s order. “Max two hours,” he explained as a forceful yawn rippled through his frame. 

“That’s bad,” Jaehyun mused, looking at the older with concerned eyes. “Is something wrong?” 

Doyoung shook his head. For the time being, he didn’t want to mention the fact that there was a strange, injured man lying in his bed. The only person he would mention it to would be Mrs Han, but she wouldn’t be back for the next few days, maybe even a week or two depending how severe the illness turned out to be in the town nearby. 

“Just couldn’t sleep,” Doyoung replied, offering Jaehyun a soft smile so that the man wouldn’t end up worrying too much. 

“Do you... want to end early?” Jaehyun suggested. 

“Can’t,” Doyoung replied, motioning to the blazing oven. “Mr Byun is coming for these later.” 

Jaehyun hummed. “I can handle that,” he stated. “I’ll close up too. You can go up and rest, I promise I won’t set the place on fire. Besides, I’d just run upstairs and let you know if anything urgent was happening.” 

“You sure?” 

The younger confidently nodded. 

Doyoung yawned again, smiling in the midst of it. “Thanks, Jae,” he murmured. “I’ll give you something extra in this week's paycheck.” 

“Thanks. Take care.” 

“You too.” 

With that, Doyoung walked through the doors that kept the rest of bakery from the staircase leading up to his modest home. His eyes instantly landed on the knife and rolling pic he left by the back door last night, hurrying to pick the two items up as the doors shut behind him. 

With only a few hours of rest, Doyoung did seriously think that the events of the previous night were nothing but a strange, vivid dream after waking up. But it wasn’t a dream, it was real. 

Doyoung really did spend hours tending to an unfamiliar man’s countless wounds, treating them with care despite his shaky hands and sleep-deprived state. He only managed to clean the cuts, wrapping them with clean bandages for the night. He also had to struggle with putting some clothes on the man, ensuring the man would be warm through the night. 

There were still things Doyoung had to do, but he didn’t dare do them when his eyes were closing by themselves. He planned on stitching up the larger wounds, knowing that those would take far longer to heal than the rest. Doyoung meant to do that today, but he didn’t know just how plausible that sounded. 

He knew he had to do it, but he also didn’t want to mess up and worsen the injuries. 

Either way, Doyoung still had to check up on the man. First, he carried the two items in his clutch to the kitchen, placing them in the sink for him to take care of later. Only then did he go to his bedroom. 

The stranger was still on the bed in pretty much the same position he was in the last time Doyoung saw him. Doyoung wasn’t expecting the man to move anyway so that didn’t come as much of a surprise. The man’s appearance did worry Doyoung though; there was a sheen of sweat covering his body so he was clearly running a fever. Obviously, there was still a lot Doyoung had to take care of to help the stranger. 

The sight of the bloodied, bandaged-up wounds peeking out from under his sleep shirt made Doyoung wince at the thought of what was underneath. He really had to stitch those up – he wouldn’t be able to do anything else until he finished doing that. 

With a sigh, Doyoung gave up on the idea of taking a nap. He had to think of what was really important at the moment, and that was the survival and well-being of the man in his bed. Doyoung grabbed the first aid kit he left on his bedside table, opening it up to find the stitches he had in there. 

Doyoung has only ever stitched someone up once and that was at least four years ago. At least the man was currently passed out which would make things just that little bit easier for Doyoung – at least he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt that would come from making the stranger uncomfortable. 

It was best to do this now than wait until the man was awake. It gave Doyoung a chance to make less mistakes since the stranger wouldn’t be moving around. And, even if he did end up making a mistake, at least it wouldn’t be too severe. 

Though, Doyoung definitely feared that the man would end up waking up in the middle of getting stitched-up. 

Truly, it would have been so much easier if Mrs Han was still in town. But for now, Doyoung – but more importantly the stranger – couldn’t wait until the woman came back to the village for her to help, and that meant that Doyoung had to do everything himself. Though, he could have told someone, possibly Taeil who would have definitely helped Doyoung out in one way or another. 

However, Doyoung worried about telling anyone about the man for the time being. He knew it was stupid, but there was something about the mysterious stranger and this situation that worried Doyoung; the last thing Doyoung wanted to do was involve anyone else in whatever mess he had found himself in. 

Doyoung grabbed the thread and needle, placing them out of the kit as he unwrapped the bandages that he spent last night working on. He was pretty pleased with how well he managed to clean all the wounds out, tending to them rather well despite having little experience in this field. 

He observed the largest of the deep cuts, pursing his lips in thought as he looked it over. It definitely would heal quicker and better if he closed it up. However, Doyoung had some problems accessing the wounds. With the way that the man was laid in his bed, Doyoung couldn’t reach the other side of the stranger since his bed was pushed up to the wall on one side, mainly because he didn’t share it with anyone else. 

Left with no other option, Doyoung exhaled, shaking his head as he hooked his legs over the stranger's lap, careful to not sit on any wound. Doyoung managed to undress the stranger the previous night and hence he got to see what wounds he had and where they were. After he subsequently patched the man up last night, Doyoung dressed the stranger up – though that took quite a lot of effort when he was basically working with a limp corpse – he forgot the exact locations of the scars as he was far too tired by that point to remember. 

Doyoung reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the stitches. He held the needle up, staring at it with nervous eyes. He had to do it but he felt like would start shaking any moment now. 

“Relax,” Doyoung said to himself. “You won’t hurt him. Just... stay calm. Don’t be a little bitch and just do it.” 

With the small pep-talk out of the way, Doyoung bent down, carefully puncturing the man’s skin with the needle. He hated the feeling as the sharp object penetrated the flesh, but he had to shove his own discomfort away for the sake of the man below him. The sooner he would get this done, the better. 

Doyoung continued, tightly stitching the skin in an even pattern, just like he remembered from the other time he did it. Back then, Doyoung did it under Mrs Han’s supervision and the woman gave him plenty of tips which Doyoung seemed to remember more and more of as he worked on the wound. 

After a short amount of time, Doyoung got into a steady rhythm. He was actually proud of himself at how well he did despite everything. The first stretch of stiches was slightly wonky, but the rest was neat and well taken care of. 

Doyoung just had a little bit left before he would be done with the largest cut. He was completely focused on the task at hand, so much so that he didn’t realise that the man beneath him had started moving. 

He only realised when there was a hand wrapped around his wrist, preventing Doyoung from continuing with his stitch work. 

Doyoung gasped, eyes wide as he looked at the stranger. 

His stare was intense, so strong and intimidating that Doyoung broke out into a cold sweat. 

Doyoung felt a sense of dread, gulping as his stomach dropped, fearing for his life. 

“Please, let me go,” Doyoung pleaded meekly. “I’m trying to help you,” he added when the stranger looked down to indicate Doyoung’s strange positioning. 

There was a short pause which – to Doyoung at least – felt like it lasted eons. In this tense pause, Doyoung feared that the stranger would do something to him, but thankfully, Doyoung’s wrist was freed, allowing him to continue on with what he was doing prior to the unpleasant interruption. 

“Thanks,” Doyoung uttered, leaning back down to finish up the big wound he was working on. “You’re pretty badly injured,” he mused after another pause, finishing his stitch work. He cut off the excess thread and leaned back over to the bedside table to pull out a fresh bandage since the one from last night could do with getting changed. “So many cuts. It’s honestly a miracle you don’t have any broken bones. You’re probably in a lot of pain. I don’t have anything to ease that right now. I’m sorry.” 

The stranger said nothing, only following Doyoung’s every move with his piercing eyes. Doyoung became hyperaware of his every move, worried that one wrong move would get the man to react aggressively. 

“Did you get in a fight or something?” Doyoung asked, hoping he could make small talk – but also to understand the man’s situation a bit more. But of course, the man said nothing. Doyoung was fine with that, he could talk to himself, he had a knack at that. “Those wounds look like they came from a sword,” he continued, wrapping the clean bandage around the man’s stitched up gash. “I didn’t see any swords with you- then again, you didn’t have anything. Were you ambushed? You literally had nothing on you other than your clothes.” 

At that, the stranger reached to his neck hastily, relaxing a little bit when he clutched his hand around the small pendant he had on him. 

“Don’t worry,” Doyoung said softly, “I didn’t touch that. I’m not like that.” When he undressed the stranger last night, he did notice the piece of jewellery but he didn’t touch it, guessing it might have had some sentimental value to it. The chain held a gold ring which Doyoung assumed was either a family heirloom or maybe a gift from a lover. Either way, Doyoung wouldn’t touch it, respecting the stranger and his possessions. 

At first, seeing the gold item on the man caused Doyoung to wonder if he really was ambushed by a bunch of robbers since it seemed quite valuable, however it was hidden beneath all the layers of clothing he had on so maybe the man wasn’t attacked for it. 

The stranger then looked down, eyes widening in horror probably from the realisation that he wasn’t in his own clothes. 

“Calm down,” Doyoung uttered, securely tying the bandage so that it would fall off if the man did move around. He then got off the stranger’s lap, groaning as he moved. His back hurt from being hunched over for as long as he had been. “I didn’t do anything to you,” he assured. “You were drenched so I had to take your clothes off. I still haven’t had the chance to wash them, and I’m not sure if they’re even dry yet. For now, you can stay in those. Now, I still need to stitch up some more of your injuries, so I’m going to need you to stay calm and lift the shirt up higher. Okay?” 

The stranger only started at Doyoung. 

Doyoung was so close to rolling his eyes at the mind-blowing level of cooperation from the stranger. He held himself back though, simply raising his brow. “You’re not talkative, are you?” The question was more of a thought to himself, but he still left some room for the man to respond. 

It didn’t surprise Doyoung when he was met with silence. 

“That’s okay,” Doyoung mused. “But lift your shirt up, you’ve got another nasty cut on your chest. You’re lucky it didn’t go deep enough to pierce your heart.” 

Nothing. 

It was like talking to a wall. 

Doyoung grabbed another needle, not wanting to use the same one as before. He was no expert, but it didn’t seem right to reuse a needle without cleaning it out first. 

Thankfully, the stranger did what Doyoung told him and he lifted up his shirt. Doyoung carefully took off the bandage there, kneeling down on the floor by the bed. “I’ll do this last one since the others are small enough to heal on their own,” he stated. “I’ll get you something to eat and drink after. You’re probably starving.” 

At the mention of the food, the stranger’s stomach grumbled. Both men exchanged looks. 

“Just bear with me,” Doyoung uttered. “It’ll take a minute.” 

The stranger didn’t complain, only shrugging as he waited for Doyoung to do his thing. 

And it really didn’t take more than a second. Doyoung was done quickly, having finally gotten the hang of how to work the needle after his earlier attempt. He then quickly changed the bandage around that wound just as he did with the other injury. It really didn’t take long. 

Doyoung stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He put away the first aid kit, closing it up securely. Doyoung left it by the bedside table for later. The stranger still had some healing to do so it was a good idea to keep the kit handy. 

“All done,” Doyoung announced. “I’ll go get you food and water. I’ll also make you some herbal tea, that should help with your fever.” 

As Doyoung was about to leave, he stopped, looking over at the man laid on his back, eyes which were fixated on the ceiling coming to look back at Doyoung. The stranger’s eyes – now that he wasn’t as startled and wary of his surroundings – were calm, maybe a bit glassy and hollow in appearance but Doyoung wrote that off as symptoms of his fever. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Doyoung asked. 

The man nodded. 

“Okay. Good,” Doyoung mused. 

At least he knew the stranger was from somewhere relatively close; the dialects around the country were far and many between. The furthest Doyoung’s been was down to the coast, a three-day horse ride from the village and another day ride from the capitol, and even though the language was the same, including the written word, Doyoung struggled immensely in communicating with the locals. It was a relief that the stranger understood him. 

Doyoung was about to move again, only to come to yet another halt. 

“By the way, I’m Doyoung,” he said, introducing himself. “Hope you can give me your name too. Take your time.” 

With that, Doyoung left the bedroom. He walked into the kitchen, filling the kettle up and setting it on the stove as he poured a glass of room temperature water into a cup for the stranger. He then rummaged through his shelves, searching for something to give the man. He decided to make him two sandwiches, slicing tomatoes from the local market up, pairing it lettuce, creamy butter on homemade bread with a generous slice of cheese on each slice of bread. 

He plated up the food and placed it on a tray alongside the water, now only waiting for the hot water to boil for the tea. He had quite a large assortment of teas, some fruity and some herbal. Doyoung decided to mix them up a bit, adding a nice fruity tea for flavour, knowing that the concoction he was making might end up tasting vile, but at least it would be healthy. Doyoung wasn’t fond of the herbal teas himself, but they always worked to get his fever down, so it should also end up helping the man in his bed. 

Finally, once the water was boiled and he had poured it over the tea, Doyoung carefully carried the tray over to the bedroom. Just as he had expected, the man hadn’t moved an inch. 

Doyoung placed the tray down on the bedside table, placing the first aid kit that was there on the floor. He first handed the stranger the glass of water. “There you go,” he said softly, smiling a bit when the stranger wrapped his shaky hands around the cup. “Drink slowly- oh, well, okay.” The stranger emptied the cup in a second but Doyoung didn’t really blame him. Who knew how long he had gone without a drink of water. 

Doyoung took the empty cup from the man, now handing him the plate with the sandwiches. 

“Hope you like these. I’ll make you more if you want- actually,” he paused, taking a second to think. “I should probably make soup,” he mused. “Easier to digest. Do you eat meat?” 

The man nodded. 

“Chicken broth it is,” Doyoung said, offering the stranger a smile. He didn’t exactly get a smile in return, but the man’s expression was somewhat kinder, maybe even slightly thankful if you looked at it for long enough. “I need to get chicken though,” he murmured, pressing his index finger to his lips. 

Doyoung would have to go out and grab one from the butchers. If they didn’t have any left then he’d have to get turkey instead. It wouldn’t be chicken broth, but it might end up being healthier that way. 

“Just stay here,” Doyoung said, walking over to his drawer to pull out some cash. “I’ll be back in like... max ten minutes. Try to drink some of the tea; it might not be the tastiest, but it’s good for you. There’s also a bunch of blankets right under the bed if you get cold. Just- please, stay. Don’t move. Okay?” 

Doyoung received a nod, and with that, he rushed out, going out through the back door to not raise any suspicions. 

*** 

The next day went rather... well, it just went. 

But what was important was that Doyoung finally had a good night’s sleep, even if he did have to sleep on the armchair in his living room to accommodate the man currently healing under his roof. 

The bakery was operating as usual, everything running just as smoothly as it always did. Doyoung kept selling out his goods, and the few things that didn’t fully get cleared out and the pastries that Jaehyun didn’t take home with him, Doyoung took up, feeding the stranger with the various treats. 

Also, Doyoung discovered he can make quite a nice broth. The stranger emptied multiple bowls in one sitting which was great and all, but Doyoung had to unfortunately help him get to the bathroom every few minutes from drinking so much. All the teas Doyoung practically funnelled down the man’s throat also didn’t help in that department, but at least they helped bring down the man’s high temperature. 

He still didn’t talk, so Doyoung mostly filled the silence even though he didn’t really mind it when it was quiet. However, the quiet that Doyoung liked wasn’t present when he was around the stranger; things were somewhat uncomfortable at times so Doyoung had to brush away the unease hovering over them for his own sanity. 

Doyoung tended to just ramble on about his day as he cleaned the man’s wounds and changed dirty bandages. 

“This one’s healing nicely,” Doyoung mused, referring to the largest of the wounds. “My stitch work isn’t all that bad after all,” he said proudly, washing around the scarring. “You know, I’ve only ever done it once before so it’s quite a miracle I didn’t royally mess up this time. Maybe I should consider becoming Mrs Han’s assistant when she comes back. I wonder when she’ll be back... she’ll treat your wounds far better than I ever could.” 

The stranger looked to Doyoung, an unreadable emotion flickering momentarily behind his eyes. 

“For now, you’re under my care. For better or for worse, I guess.” Doyoung shrugged, his lips pressed into a thin line. The other man turned back to stare at the ceiling. “I have to say, it feels weird having someone else basically living with me. I mean, I run a bakery downstairs so I’m used to having a lot of people around, but nobody really ever comes into my personal four walls so... yeah. It’s a bit weird,” he said, the words he spoke coming out on their own accord to fill the silence. “I don’t even know your name or where you’re from or why you’re here, so that definitely adds to the strangeness factor. But it’s okay, I guess. It would be cruel of me to complain, especially considering the state you were in when you crashed into my bakery. I get it if you don’t trust me enough to speak; I’m used to silence anyway.” 

Done with cleaning the man up, Doyoung put the towel back in the bowl filled with warm, soapy water by the foot of the bed. He dried his hands on his pants, rolling his sleeves back down. 

“Are you warm?” He asked when the man pulled his own shirt back down. “It’s getting colder these days, so if you want anything warmer to wear, maybe some more blankets, I can give you what you need. Just let me know.” Doyoung offered the man a friendly smile, picking up the bowl to carry it to the bathroom where he then poured the water down the drain. 

Doyoung lingered in the bathroom for a bit longer, taking a breather from having to take care for the man. He had a long day, so he just needed a moment to himself before he made his way to sleep. Doyoung didn’t even have the energy to bother with making himself something to eat – he'd just live off the tea he poured himself whilst he was making some for the stranger. 

Doyoung was feeling the effects of having his schedule and every day plan knocked out of balance. It didn’t feel pleasant, especially since Doyoung was the type of person that had to be constantly organised; even the kitchen when he baked, the mess around him was calculated and organised, always being dealt with in a planned and structured manner. 

The weekends were supposed to be Doyoung’s time of rest, but he didn’t really get any of that so he maybe was feeling a bit exhausted, his body not used to the structure of his days being sent into what could only be described as utter chaos. 

There wasn’t room to complain though. Even if Doyoung would love to do that right about now. 

When Doyoung walked back into the bedroom, the stranger was sipping on his herbal tea. He was pulling a face, the taste of the beverage far from favourable, but he still drank it, understanding that it was for his own good. 

A plus of the man not talking was that he didn’t really complain. Maybe he did give sour looks occasionally, but other than that, all was good. 

Well, at least Doyoung hoped so. 

“Yeah, drink that up,” Doyoung encouraged. “I’ll try to get some more fruit tea in the morning since you didn’t really like the other one that much. Would you prefer berry flavoured tea? Or maybe apples? Or is anything fine as long as it’s not that?” 

The stranger nodded and Doyoung assumed that was the answer to the last of the questions. 

“Okay. I’ll get something nice then.” After another moment of silence, Doyoung spoke up again. “Are you okay with my cooking? I know the bread and all that is fine, but is everything else okay?” 

The man blinked in response, still sipping on his hot drink. 

“Good... By the way, your clothes are dry now and all, but I was looking at them and they could really do with being stitched up. I’ll do that later if you’re okay waiting a bit longer.” 

Doyoung got the same form of response as always. 

“Anyway, I’ll be heading to sleep. If you need me, bang on the walls or something. I’ll hear. Goodnight.” 

Doyoung wasn’t exactly sure if he heard right or not, but he swore he caught a quite murmur resembling a _goodnight_ from the stranger. Maybe his hearing was off, but he pretended it was what he thought it was, his heart becoming somewhat lighter at the faint noise. 

*** 

“And what’s up with you?” Taeil asked, his brows furrowed as Doyoung was stumbling behind the counter, struggling to remember what he was trying to do. “Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” Doyoung replied, stopping in his tracks for a second to gather his thoughts. 

Blueberry cupcake. Right. 

Doyoung grabbed Taeil’s order, carefully placing it in a paper bag for the man to take out. 

“You don’t seem okay. You’re all over the place.” 

Taeil was right; Doyoung was in multiple places at once. Physically, he was in the bakery, serving up customers and whipping out fresh batches of bread. However, mentally, Doyoung was upstairs, tending to the stranger’s wounds. He still didn’t know the man’s name, and he was honestly starting to think that the man couldn’t actually speak, or maybe he was so traumatised after what happened to him that he couldn’t muster anything up. 

“Have you been getting any sleep?” Ten – yet another of Doyoung’s friends – asked. “I mean, you always look like a demon but those bags under your eyes really aren’t helping.” 

Doyoung rolled his eyes, shooting an unamused glare Ten’s way. 

“Sheesh,” Ten uttered, shivering at the strong gaze from Doyoung. “Are you possessed?” 

“I’m just tired,” Doyoung replied. It was easier to say than that to explain how he was constantly thinking of two things at once. He also couldn’t mention that he was being kept up because of a man – he surely wouldn’t hear the end of that from his friends, especially from Ten. 

But he couldn’t help it; Doyoung couldn’t help but constantly worry about the man upstairs. Last night, Doyoung was woken up by low pained grunts in the middle of the night. He rushed into the bedroom and saw that the deepest of the cuts Doyoung had stitched up had started bleeding again due to the man’s movements during the night. That meant that Doyoung had to clean it up and sew it back up again. 

“What’s gotten you so tired that you’re acting like this?” Taeil questioned, handing Doyoung a few coins he counted beforehand. “This isn’t very _you_ , if you know what I mean.” 

“It’s nothing,” Doyoung assured. “Trust me.” 

Taeil and Ten exchanged looks, seemingly not buying Doyoung’s excuse. The man didn’t blame them; he was quite a bad liar after all. 

“You know, if you need some help, I’d be happy to step in for you for a day or two,” Taeil stated. 

“You don’t ha-” 

“I insist,” Taeil interrupted. “Just let me help.” 

Doyoung sighed in disbelief, yet he smiled. He definitely needed a break. “Thanks,” he said. 

“Should I come in tomorrow?” 

“That would be nice,” Doyoung replied. “I’ll get up earlier and sort out the batches, and Jaehyun will do the rest.” 

“Cool,” Taeil said, taking his paper bag. “I’ll be here when you open.” 

“Thanks again.” 

“No problem.” 

*** 

Doyoung found sewing actually quite relaxing; he didn’t expect it to be so calming, but as he got to work on the large holes in the stranger’s clothes, he found himself liking the process. Also, maybe the fact that Doyoung didn’t have to work the next day helped ease his mind. For the first time in what would be a week now, Doyoung had a day where he didn’t have to split himself into two to work and take care of the man in his bedroom. 

It honestly felt strange having to refer to the man as either _man_ or _stranger_ , but that was all he could say since the man didn’t speak, nor did he give Doyoung his name in any form. 

As he worked the needle through the cleaned fabric, Doyoung focused a little bit more on the embroidered insignia, hating that he couldn’t quite put a finger to where he recognised it from. Because he had seen that logo before – the symmetrical pattern, chaotic yet elegant in nature. 

Whatever it was, the insignia was either found somewhere close around, or it was significant enough to be known by a commoner like Doyoung. 

That could be a good or bad thing. 

“You know, I’ve seen this before,” Doyoung mused, knowing he was honestly just talking to himself. The stranger did look at him, consuming yet another herbal tea – this time one that didn’t taste all that bad. “This insignia. I swear I’ve seen this around before... Are you from a royal or well-off family?” He asked, turning to the man who just softly shook his head no. “But these are yours, right? They’re not stolen?” 

The man nodded. 

That was something. At least those did really belong to him. 

“It’s nice fabric too,” Doyoung continued, careful with his patch work. “Must have been expensive. Especially your undershirt, speaking of which, I don’t think I can really fix that one up. I’m sorry.” 

There didn’t seem to be any anger or any form of displeased emotion coming from the injured stranger. That was a relief. 

Doyoung went on with sewing, deciding to ramble on about his day when he noticed the stranger drink his tea with a cupcake Doyoung brought up for him from the bakery. 

“Those usually sell out quickly,” Doyoung stated. “They’re quite popular really, they practically sold out today too but I decided to hide one away for you to try. I hope you like it; I’ll make more for you if they do tickle your fancy. Just let me know.” 

Funnily enough, the man nodded, his eyes practically lighting up which seemed so out of character for him. It was quite cute in a weird way. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Doyoung said with a smile. “It’s nice to see someone else other than the town’s people enjoying my goods, at least now I know they’re not just lying because I’m the only bakery around. Say, where you’re from, did you have good bakeries?” 

There was a moment of silence in which the stranger wondered about his response. In the end he shrugged, not sure himself. 

Doyoung figured. 

“Where I grew up, we used to have a very small bakery,” Doyoung recounted. “They’d only ever bake bread, nothing too fancy since there weren’t that many people around that would buy anything else, and even if they did, that would have cost too much. But they used to make these small cakes for the winter solstice,” Doyoung explained, showing roughly the size of the treat with his two hands, making a circle with them. “They’d use the fruits from the autumn harvest and cake the top in sugar and it was just _so_ good. It was the highlight of the year honestly; I remember my parents would go line up in the morning to get me and my brother the biggest one.” 

Doyoung smiled, slowly stitching the clothing resting in his lap. He did think fondly of the memory. Plus, he did tend to get overly sappy when he thought of his family and childhood. 

“I wanted to bake since I was a kid. I wanted to bring joy with my pastries in the same way that small bakery and its cake made me and my family happy. Yeah... I’d actually love to have one of those cakes again. I haven’t actually tried to recreate it- actually, that’s a lie; I tried once but it ended up tasting so different to what I had as a kid. It would be a sin to ruin something so delicious.” 

When he was met with silence as usual, Doyoung let out a deep exhale. It felt nice to ramble from time to time, but he did feel somewhat uncomfortable with just how quite the stranger was despite everything. 

Doyoung tied the thread once he was done with the area he had been working on, cutting the spare thread off. He checked the garment, proud of how he managed to fix the big hole. There were still a few left, so Doyoung flipped the item around to get to the next one. 

Surprisingly, Doyoung spotted something he didn’t see when he washed the clothes. 

“Yo...Yola? Yoto? No, that’s a Yu,” Doyoung uttered, squinting his eyes to read the blurry lettering sewn into the inside collar of the man’s shirt. “Yuto?” 

“Yuta.” 

Doyoung jumped in shock, his heard stopping for a brief second since he wasn’t expecting that. 

But he heard right. The man had spoken up. 

Doyoung whipped his head around, eyes wide as if he had just seen a ghost. “Did you just say something?” 

The man nodded and Doyoung wanted to cry and groan simultaneously. Before he could do that, the man spoke up again. 

“Yuta,” he said. “My name. It’s Yuta.” 

His – Yuta's – voice was rather sweet and a bit deep, smooth even, like a river of honey. It wasn’t what Doyoung expected from someone with such striking eyes and with such an... intimidating appearance. But it suited him. He hadn’t said much, but Doyoung had to admit that Yuta’s voice was quite pleasant. 

It definitely beat the silence. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung repeated quietly. That wasn’t a name Doyoung has heard before. It was nice though. “Nice to finally put a name to the face,” he added, offering Yuta a polite smile. 

Yuta returned the gesture – albeit softer. 

“Where did you come from?” Doyoung questioned, seizing the opportunity to learn a bit more about Yuta. “Your accent, it’s- you’re not from far out, are you?” 

“Does it matter?” Yuta replied, his reluctance discouraging Doyoung from asking anymore. But Doyoung decided to pry anyway, for better or for worse. 

“I just want to know,” Doyoung said. “I want to help. Do you know where you are now? I could help you go back to-” 

“No point,” Yuta interrupted. “Nothing to go back to.” 

Doyoung didn’t know what to make of that statement, but it didn’t sound good. Whatever happened, maybe it explained Yuta’s many wounds. 

“I’ll leave soon,” Yuta then added. “You’ve helped enough.” 

“But I-” Doyoung didn’t see a point in arguing. “If that’s what you want, okay. But I want you to stay until Mrs Han returns,” he said. “She’s a doctor. She’ll fix you up better than I can.” 

“When will she be back?” 

Doyoung shrugged. “Maybe another week or two. Hopefully that big one will close up by then,” he said, pointing over to Yuta’s patched up stab wound. “She’ll check up on you and give you some medicine for the way. So, wait a bit longer. You’ll be all good soon.” 

*** 

After opening up and sorting out things in the bakery to help Jaehyun and Taeil for the day ahead, Doyoung went back up to his place, resuming his well-deserved nap on the armchair. He actually grew to find the seat and position comfortable to sleep in, even if he did tend to wake up with a crick in his neck from how it bent during his sleep. 

His peaceful nap was however unfortunately brought to an abrupt end when a clattering noise from the kitchen startled him awake. Doyoung’s heart leapt out of his chest, a sense of sheer dread and irrational fear filling him. 

Doyoung whipped his head around to see what just happened. 

He didn’t expect to see Yuta standing in the kitchen, a wooden cutting board and some cutlery on the floor by his feat. 

The two men exchanged looks, Doyoung confused and shocked – his heart still calming down from the abrupt fright – and Yuta, sorry and guilty, like a child caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked. 

“I was thirsty,” Yuta replied. 

“You could’ve banged on the walls,” Doyoung pointed out. “You shouldn’t be up and running around.” 

“But-” 

“No buts,” Doyoung interrupted, throwing the blanket off himself. He stood up, feeling his joints popping at the movement. “I’ll get you a drink. You go back to bed.” 

“But-” 

“What did I say?” 

Yuta didn’t reply, biting his cheek and nodding in defeat. Without another word, the man turned on his heel and retreated back to the bedroom. 

Doyoung sighed, waiting until Yuta disappeared into the bedroom before he slumped his shoulders. This wasn’t how he wanted to be woken up. He looked down at the mess of the floor, deciding to quickly clean that up first before he ended up standing on anything. 

Once he put everything neatly away, Doyoung grabbed a cup and poured in some water. He carried it over to Yuta, handing it over to the man who hummed as he took the cup. Yuta drank the entirety of the contents in one go, putting the cup back down on the bedside table. 

Yuta looked up at Doyoung, his eyes oddly soft – maybe even a bit worried or guilty. 

“Are you hungry?” Doyoung decided to ask. “I can make breakfast. I hope eggs are fi-” 

“No need,” Yuta said, causing Doyoung to stop talking. “No need for breakfast.” 

“Well... you need to eat,” Doyoung pointed out. “Your body needs all the time and energy to heal.” 

After a moment of silence, with his hands playing apprehensively with the bed covers, Yuta spoke up again. “You need to sleep,” he mumbled, almost quietly enough to not get heard by Doyoung. However, the baker was listening attentively, treasuring any word the man decided to speak since he used his voice so rarely. 

“I need to- are you worried about me?” 

Yuta didn’t say anything, averting his gaze from Doyoung. 

That was actually quite sweet. 

“That’s really nice of you,” Doyoung said. “But you don’t have to worry. Just focus on getting better.” 

“Then let me move around,” Yuta interrupted. “I can do it. The stitches are fine.” 

Doyoung was apprehensive, not wanting his negligence to cause Yuta anymore harm. However, he had to admit that Yuta was capable of at the very least going into the kitchen to get himself water – maybe even going as far to make himself a sandwich. 

But when Doyoung looked at Yuta, the picture of the man all bloodied up, laying limp on his floor with clothes drenched, Doyoung couldn’t help but worry. It felt far too soon; with all those injuries, any other person would still be lying in bed with no thoughts of getting up any time soon – not alone at the very least. 

Yet there Yuta was, insisting he should move about. 

Doyoung didn’t know if he just healed abnormally fast or if Yuta had other reasons. He hoped for the former but he also highly doubted it. Maybe Yuta just didn’t like feeling weak or vulnerable. That could always have been a reason. 

Reluctantly, Doyoung lowered his head. "Fine,” he said. “But no strenuous activities. Don’t bend down, don’t lift anything heavier than the kettle, and please be careful.” 

Yuta agreed with a hum. 

“Great. In that case... breakfast?” 

Yuta eyed Doyoung, assessing if Doyoung had slept enough. 

“My nap was fine,” the baker stated. “I’m not tired. So? What’s it gonna be? Breakfast: yes or no?” 

After a moment, Yuta exhaled. “Yes.” 

***

Doyoung was in the middle of serving a customer when he heard an unusual sound. Nobody else seemed to catch it, hence Doyoung continued working as usual. His one day break actually did wonders, and now that Yuta was A: speaking, and B: capable of fulfilling his basic needs without Doyoung’s constant assistance, Doyoung wasn’t as worried. 

Well, he still was worried, but maybe two or three percent less than usual. That was enough for him to not have his mind split in two. Still, there was a small voice in his head that wondered if Yuta was actually fine, if he hadn’t fallen over or if his wounds were still fine, healing just as they should. 

So far, his day was relatively calm; he saw the same faces as he usually did, baked the same goods he always did, and everything was going just as it was supposed to. 

He had his routine back. 

Well, a shadow of a routine – the real thing didn’t include waking in his armchair, and it definitely didn’t make room for another person sharing his living space. But yes, he had a semblance of his routine back. Hopefully, he’d have it completely back once Mrs Han comes back and Yuta is sent on his merry way, their meeting and these events being nothing but a distant memory. 

Doyoung continued working happily, spending some extra time in the back, taking extra care with the preparations for the last small batch of bread for the few villagers who ended work late and had nobody else to go fetch them a fresh loaf. Doyoung was a firm believer that fresh bread was the best and he wouldn’t want anyone missing out on the joy such a small thing brought. 

Hence, he put the batch in the blazing oven. The loafs should be done by the time the few last customers came rolling in. 

The man quickly looked up at the ceiling, hearing yet another sound, this time louder. Before, he wrote the sound off as Yuta maybe knocking something down, or maybe it was the chair by Doyoung’s small round dining table scrapping against the floor. 

However, this time it was different. This time it worried Doyoung. 

It was a thud, as if a body collapsing onto the ground. 

Doyoung panicked, taking speedy steps to a smiley Jaehyun serving another customer. He tapped the man on the shoulder, excusing himself for a moment. Jaehyun didn’t question the older man, and so, Doyoung rushed upstairs. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, so when he opened the door to walk inside to the main part of his home, he felt his heart stop. 

Yuta was on the floor on all fours – no, threes, with one hand pressing down over the deepest of his wounds. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung called, worry seeping from his voice. He rushed over to the man, quickly assessing the injuries. “Are you okay? What happened? Oh lord, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone!” 

The man grunted, pushing himself to sit on his knees. Yuta’s face was scrunched - not in sheer agony but clear discomfort. He pulled his hand away from his injury, revealing that his – Doyoung's – white shirt was stained with a few blots of blood. 

“Shit,” Yuta murmured. 

The sight wasn’t reassuring. 

“It shouldn’t be bleeding,” Doyoung uttered. “I- I stitched you up and- I can’t-” 

“It’s okay,” Yuta interrupted before Doyoung could go on and blame himself even more. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I walked into the counter. Calm down.” 

“It- it still shouldn’t be bleeding!” Doyoung argued. “Am I really this bad at treating wounds?” He asked himself, earning a rather sympathetic look from Yuta which didn’t suit him. Doyoung wasn’t used to seeing Yuta do anything other than frown, be stoic or occasionally scrunch his face. “Whatever,” Doyoung dismissed, hooking his arm around Yuta to pull him up. “Back to bed you go.” 

“But-” 

“No,” Doyoung said sternly. “Whatever you wanted; I’ll get it. You just have to lay down and wait for the bleeding to stop.” 

Yuta shook his head but did as told. He went back to the bedroom, laying down in bed. 

Doyoung pulled up Yuta’s shirt to get a good look at the damage, biting down on his bottom lip as he scanned the wound. There was quite a bit of bruising around the injuries and Doyoung started to fear that he might have done something wrong. He wasn’t entirely convinced that’s how Yuta should look. The discolouration was unnerving and the bleeding just made everything worse. 

Doyoung wanted to cry. 

He could have seriously cried right there and then. 

“This... this looks bad,” Doyoung murmured, gently stroking his index over Yuta’s skin. “I’m- I’m trying my best but this... this is bad,” he uttered, finding himself at the brink of tears. He sniffled, quickly blinking to stop himself from crying. He hurried to grab the kit from the bedside table, pulling out a clean bandage before he rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and wetting it with water. 

When he returned to the bedroom, Yuta had his lips sucked in, looking up at Doyoung from across the room. He said nothing. 

Doyoung walked back to the bed, getting rid of the used bandage. He cleaned the wound and the skin around it, carefully dabbing the skin with the wet towel. 

The silence in the room was heavy, weighing down on Doyoung’s shoulders. 

He was already exhausted, and the need to cry wasn’t helping him at all. 

Doyoung didn’t want to be the reason why someone died. He tried his hardest, doing all he could until Mrs Han returned, but all he managed to do was mess things up. 

His version started to get blurry, hands shaking. The thought of having blood on his hands – now in a more metaphorical sense – was sending him down an unpleasant path. He didn’t want to think about it, but what if all his play pretend at being a doctor caused more harm, possibly leading Yuta to suffer as he slowly died? 

Yuta grabbed onto Doyoung’s shaking hand, causing Doyoung to look up at him. 

Doyoung’s vision was unfocused but he could still see a vague outline of Yuta’s expression. 

It was softer than anything he’s seen the man with before. 

“I’m fine,” Yuta assured. 

“But the inju-” 

“I’m fine,” Yuta repeated. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s just bruising. Now please stop crying. There’s no point.” 

Doyoung swallowed, wiping at his eyes with the back of his free hand. 

If only his family saw him right now, they’d think he never grew out of his cry-baby stage. 

“I’ll stay,” Yuta then added. “If it helps. I won’t move around.” 

The baker shook his head. “No,” he said. “You can move. I can’t stop you, even if it would ease my mind. But just- just please be careful.” 

Yuta hummed. 

And so, the conversation died. Doyoung quickly patched Yuta up, wrapping the clean bandage around his wound, making note to get some herbal remedies for the bruises and the cuts. He should have done it sooner, but he found a new sense of urgency within himself after that incident. 

Once he was done, Doyoung pushed himself up and looked down at Yuta. 

“What were you getting?” 

“Food,” Yuta replied. 

“Right... food,” Doyoung mused. “Anything in particular?” 

Yuta shrugged. 

“Okay. I’ll make you something nice. Don’t go anywhere.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Doyoung snorted – the sound wet from his earlier cries – before walking out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. 

*** 

“Don’t move,” Doyoung muttered, scooping up a decent amount of medical ointment on his finger. Yuta wriggled around when he applied it previously and Doyoung didn’t plan on getting kicked by the man when he was only trying to help. “This will help. I know it stings, but it does help.” 

Yuta bit his lip, turning his head the other way. He held the fabric of his shirt up, body tensed up as he waited for Doyoung to brush the remedy over his next cut. Doyoung knew it would sting so he really didn’t blame Yuta for reacting the way he did. 

When Doyoung rubbed the ointment on, Yuta practically hissed. Despite most of the cuts being closed up now, there were some that Yuta kept scratching at, revealing the young, healing skin beneath. Of course, Doyoung did make an effort to scold Yuta, but that didn’t bring the scabs back. Hopefully thought, Yuta would learn that as fun as picking at scabs was, it didn’t help in the long run. 

“I’ll have to apply it again in the morning,” Doyoung stated, satisfied with his generous application. “That should be it for tonight,” he then added. “I’ll let you rest now.” Doyoung wiped his hands on his pants, the garment already dirty from a day in the kitchen, flour and icing staining the black fabric. 

Doyoung stood up, twisting the lid to the ointment back on, placing it down on the bedside table. 

He yawned, blinking his eyes in quick succession. He really was in need of a good night’s sleep, and though he was planning on going to sleep straight away, he had sadly realised that no matter how much he tried to tell himself that sleeping on the armchair in his living room was good enough, it really wasn’t. He was really exhausted when he woke up, no matter what. 

Of course, Doyoung was functioning better than during the first few nights of Yuta’s presence, but it was still far from ideal. 

Doyoung glanced at the bed – not at Yuta, but at the bed. 

His heart and body yearned for nothing more than to lay down in his bed. 

But he couldn’t. He had to let Yuta rest. 

Besides, this wouldn’t last much longer. Once Mrs Han came back and Yuta was fit to go, Doyoung would get his bed back. 

Doyoung yawned again, looking away from the bed, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“Tired?” Yuta asked. 

The baker nodded. “Busy day,” he stated. “I’ll just get changed and go to sleep, if you don’t mind.” 

Yuta shook his head. 

And another yawn. 

“Do you sleep in a chair?” Yuta questioned, something different in his voice. Maybe it was worry, some concern for Doyoung. 

Doyoung nodded. “I don’t have a guest bedroom. This place is too small,” he explained. “But it’s fine. You need to rest enough so your body heals.” 

“You need rest too,” Yuta pointed out. “You work.” 

Doyoung shrugged. “I guess I do.” 

Yuta looked up at Doyoung, chewing on the inside of his cheeks. He scooted up, making some room next to him. “We can share,” he suggested, and from the way he sounded, he wasn’t joking. 

“I-” Doyoung didn’t know what to say. Technically speaking, Doyoung’s bed was big enough for the both of them to lay on if they kept to their sides. Doyoung could probably keep to one spot since he wasn’t the type to thrash around during his sleep, but he still worried that he may end up hitting Yuta during his sleep, possibly ripping open one of the man’s wounds. 

“It’s fine,” Yuta assured. “I’m used to small beds,” he added. 

“What if I kick you?” 

“I’m a heavy sleeper.” 

“But your wounds-” 

“We can put a pillow between our bodies,” Yuta said. “Or at least over my injuries. So?” 

Doyoung gulped, sucking in his lips. “That... does sound nice. Thanks.” 

“No need to thank me,” Yuta dismissed. “It is your bed, after all.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

With the arrangements settled, Doyoung grabbed a fresh set of pyjamas for himself, quickly getting changed in the bathroom before washing his face and teeth. 

He was ready in a few minutes, stepping back into the bedroom where Yuta’s eyes followed him the moment he arrived. It seemed like he was waiting for Doyoung to come back which Doyoung didn’t know what to think about that. 

Yuta moved up, going closer to the wall. Since Doyoung would have to wake up earlier than him to go to work, it made sense for Yuta to be closer to the wall. 

Doyoung slipped under the covers of his bed for the first time in what felt like so long. The spot was warm from Yuta’s body heat but Doyoung didn’t particularly mind – considering how cold it was getting outside, having a preheated bed was actually quite nice. 

The baker grabbed one of the few pillows on the bed, placing it in between his and Yuta’s bodies. It probably wouldn’t end up being much help in the end, but at least it gave the man some peace of mind before going to sleep. 

“You mind if I turn the light off now?” Doyoung asked. 

“I don’t,” Yuta replied. “Go ahead.” 

With that, Doyoung turned off the lamp, the only thing from keeping the room from being pitch black was the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window. It was a soft, pleasant light, just how Doyoung liked it. He would never close the curtains for the night, even if there was a full moon out; he enjoyed the magical feel of the moonlight. 

Doyoung was pretty much asleep by the time he heard Yuta behind him. The man was muttering to himself and Doyoung recounted he would hear a few things occasionally during the night so he guessed that that was what it was. 

He was going to ignore it, however, as Yuta talked more, Doyoung couldn’t help but listen, catching onto a few words. 

When he spoke freely, Doyoung noticed Yuta’s accent even clearer. And Doyoung recognised that accent, the changes in tone and the unique annunciation of vowels. 

Yuta came from the capital. If not from the capital, then from an area surrounding it. 

But the capital was so far away even on the fastest horse. So, what on earth was Yuta doing all the way here? And how did he even end up so far away from the capital? 

Luckily, Doyoung actually could understand the spoken dialect of the capital. 

“What now?” Yuta spoke. “What am I supposed to do now? I failed my only purpose, so what do I do now?” 

Doyoung bit down on his cheeks, feeling like he was intruding on something personal, but then again, they were sharing a bed so Yuta should have been prepared for Doyoung to hear in on his thoughts. 

“I should have died,” Yuta continued, causing Doyoung’s heart to clench. “Should have walked into the woods instead,” he continued, a pitiful chuckle slipping past his lips. 

The words Yuta spoke didn’t sound right. 

Doyoung saw Yuta’s strong will to live, so why would he ever say anything like that? It made no sense to Doyoung. 

“It would have been easier. Now I got someone else involved, and for what? He should have left me to die, but he had to end up being someone nice. I should have ended up on some heartless man’s doorstep instead and have him let me die. It’s what I deserve.” 

Doyoung couldn’t bear to listen anymore, speaking up before he comprehended what he was doing. 

“Don’t say that,” the baker muttered. 

There was a long silence. 

“You understood that?” Yuta asked, more surprised by that detail than anything else. 

Doyoung turned around, laying on his other side. Yuta was laid on his back, yet his head was tilted to the side, eyes locked with Doyoung’s. 

“Yes,” Doyoung replied, struggling to formulate his words, translating one dialect to the other in his head. “So, don’t say such things. Nobody deserves to die.” 

Yuta scoffed. “Plenty of people deserve to die,” he argued, slipping back into the dialect Doyoung was far more comfortable in. “Me included.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“But it’s true,” Yuta stated. “You don’t even know who you’re defending.” 

Doyoung scowled. “Maybe I don’t,” he said. “But from what I’ve seen, you’re not bad.” 

“It’s not about that,” Yuta pointed out. “I’ve disgraced the kingdom. I should be hung for what I caused.” 

“That... what did you do?” 

Yuta considered if he should speak, giving it a good, long thought. He looked nervous, wary of speaking up. Doyoung could sense Yuta’s unease seeping through his pores. There was a long silence, one which dragged on for far too long for Doyoung’s liking. 

“I was a knight,” Yuta announced. “I was- I was one of the King’s trusted twelve, which is basically the highest honour for a knight,” he explained, severely spiking Doyoung’s interest. 

Now that Yuta mentioned it, Doyoung could pinpoint exactly what the insignia on Yuta’s clothes – he knew it looked familiar. It wasn’t the kingdoms emblem, but Doyoung had seen it before during a royal parade when he was young; it was the symbol adorning some of the knight’s armour. 

“My father was a part of the twelve, and so was my grandfather, so it’s a family honour,” Yuta continued, fidgeting around with his fingers. “But that tradition and honour ends with me. I have no right to step back onto the palace grounds unless it’s to be executed.” 

Doyoung didn’t know what to think, and Yuta’s vagueness didn’t help. 

“What did you do?” 

Yuta glanced at Doyoung, the look sending shivers down Doyoung’s spine. His gaze was so cold, so serious. 

“You seriously don’t know?” Yuta asked. 

Doyoung blinked, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Know what?” 

“The King and Queen are dead,” Yuta stated bluntly. “There was an attack on the palace. They both died.” 

Doyoung’s eyes widened at the shocking news. “What? Wha- when? How?” 

Yuta scanned Doyoung with his piercing eyes. “Have you not received the news?” 

“Well- no,” Doyoung replied, sitting up. “We’re in the middle of nowhere! The news of the prince’s engagement came to us two months after the event- the prince! Is he still alive?” 

Yuta replied with a subtle nod. 

That was definitely a lot of news to be bombarded with at such an hour. Not only did he learn of Yuta’s occupation prior to ending up on his floor, drenched to the bone in freezing rain, he also found out about the tragic fate of the beloved King and Queen. That was quite a lot for Doyoung to handle. 

But there was still one thing that didn’t exactly make sense. 

“What... what did _you_ do?” Doyoung asked, his heart skipping a beat in fear as his mind jumped straight to the worst-case scenario. 

Yuta clenched his jaw, looking away from Doyoung, focusing on the view of the moon through the bedroom window. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung called softly. “What happened?” 

The man exhaled. “I let a traitor in,” he explained, his hand clutching around the pendant at his neck. “I was supposed to serve the kingdom and the royal family, no matter what. But I... I was too blinded by- no, that doesn’t matter,” he stopped himself, a hint of spite and sadness to his tone. “I was too blinded to realise that I was being used. I guess I got what I deserved,” he muttered. “Though, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of killing me,” he added, more to himself than Doyoung. “I ran as far as I could, so he couldn’t see me die.” 

Doyoung felt himself leaning forwards without even thinking about it, his hand inching forward, gently placing it against Yuta’s bicep. Yuta slowly looked over to Doyoung, confusion clear in his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” Doyoung uttered softly. “It’s not your fault.” 

Yuta’s expression went through a variety of emotions in the short span of a few seconds, ranging from confusion, disbelief, hurt, sadness, a hint of relief, but he resulted in a baffled look being thrown Doyoung’s way. “It is,” he argued. “I let someone in that massacred the ruling monarchs! If it wasn’t for me, they’d still be alive! Everyone would still be alive...” 

“That’s... one way to think,” Doyoung said. “You can blame yourself until you die, but will that do any good? You didn’t kill them. For all we know, that person you let in could have gone around a different way, so there's no use to beat yourself over with it.” 

Yuta said nothing, avoiding Doyoung’s eyes as he looked down to the space between them. 

“I know it must hurt,” Doyoung continued. “But you don’t deserve to die over a mistake. I know the King and Queen were good people, but the kingdom won’t collapse if you’re worried about that. And I’m sure nobody will blame you. So... don’t say you deserve to die, because you don’t.” 

Yuta gave it a moment before he shrugged, laying back down, shutting his eyes tight. 

That seemed to be the end of that. 

“Goodnight, Yuta.” 

Doyoung laid back down, resting on his side. 

He fell asleep soon thereafter. 

***

Doyoung poured hot water into his mug as well as Yuta’s, stirring the teas before adding some honey into the drinks. He had his day planned ahead, and once he handed Yuta his drink, Doyoung would go down to the bakery and unwind with some flour, sugar and the blazing fires of the oven. 

Baking was truly the one thing which gave him upmost joy, so going to the kitchen on a nice Sunday afternoon when there was nobody around was utterly ideal. Plus, Doyoung wanted to try out a few new recipes with some of the harvested fruits and vegetables one of their local farmers brought in for Doyoung in exchange for a few sweet treats. 

Doyoung already had a few ideas swimming around in his head and he was beyond excited to get to work on them all. 

After a minute or two of aimlessly stirring, Doyoung grabbed Yuta’s mug and carried it over to the bedroom. Yuta was in the same position as he always was, and Doyoung had to admit, he did feel sorry for the man; Yuta always looked so bored, or consumed with his own thoughts if not bored. Doyoung felt bad, and now that he somewhat understood just what thoughts the man may be having, Doyoung didn’t want Yuta to linger on them for too long. 

So, as he placed the drink down and received an expected _thank you_ from Yuta, Doyoung stood around, looking down at the man. 

Yuta didn’t take notice of it – or he at least pretended that he didn’t – for a few seconds. However, the longer Doyoung stood over Yuta, the latter finally caved in. 

“What’s wrong?” Yuta asked, his lip pressed to the rim of the mug. 

“You’re bored,” Doyoung stated. 

“I am?” 

Doyoung nodded. 

“Okay...” 

“I have something you can do,” Doyoung announced. “Don’t worry, I won’t get you to clean the house or anything along those lines.” 

Yuta tilted his head slightly to the side. 

“Come help me downstairs,” Doyoung said. 

“Downstairs?” 

Doyoung nodded. 

“Doing what?” 

“Well, I could do with some assistance in the kitchen.” 

Yuta scoffed. “I can’t cook – or bake for that matter.” 

“That’s not an issue,” Doyoung assured. “Do you know how to work scales?” 

“I... I think so.” 

“That’s good enough then,” the baker said. “You can take your drink down if you want. Or... you can stay here, in this bed, doing nothing for another day.” 

“You’re the one that told me not to move,” Yuta pointed out. “Why are you letting me move around all of a sudden?” 

“Because I feel bad,” Doyoung admitted. “I feel bad for keeping you up here constantly even though I’m doing it for you and your recovery. But I also know that if I leave you here alone, you’ll probably keep thinking of what we talked about last night and I don’t want that, okay? I want to help you. You could probably do with a hobby right now, or at least something to keep you occupied.” 

“Does what I think really affect you that much?” Yuta questioned. 

“Yes,” Doyoung replied. In all honesty, it shouldn’t have affected him in any way other than making him feel sorry for Yuta momentarily. But it did. Doyoung didn’t want Yuta to constantly punish himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Nobody should have to suffer constantly over something that they didn’t do – and sure, even if Yuta was somewhat to blame for being a possible means of speeding up the events which took place, how was he to know what would happen? 

Life was unpredictable. 

Yuta chewed on his bottom lip, placing his mug down carefully. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you.” 

“Great! You can join me when you’re ready.” 

After leaving the bedroom, Doyoung quickly went back to the kitchen to grab his tea before he hurried downstairs. He caught a glimpse of Yuta getting up on his way over to the stairs, so he knew that Yuta would end up joining him soon. 

Doyoung manoeuvred around to the front desk; he could navigate the bakery with his eyes closed, knowing every little thing about it like it was an extension of himself, because, in a way, it was. This was his life. The bakery was his life, his purpose, the one thing he loved more than anything. 

The baker hurried over to the main part of the kitchen, hidden mostly away behind the main counter and service desk. Everything was clean, spotless and ready to be made a mess of. He grabbed all that he needed to make a basic pastry, placing bags of flour and sugar on the countertop before grabbing other items needed. 

Doyoung was used to having someone else in the kitchen, but it felt different when the person wasn’t Jaehyun but Yuta. Doyoung could tell the moment that Yuta stepped into the kitchen behind him that he was severely out of place. Yuta stuck out like a sore thumb, everything about him screaming that this wasn’t where he belonged. 

But that was fine, not everyone could be at ease in a new setting. 

All Doyoung had to do was ease him in. Who knew, maybe Yuta would develop a liking for baking. If so, then maybe Doyoung could help him in some way with finding a new purpose, or at the very least something new to occupy himself with. Maybe that way Yuta wouldn’t seem so hopeless and aimless. 

Doyoung looked over his shoulder, instantly spotting Yuta standing awkwardly behind him. 

“Come closer,” Doyoung said, offering Yuta a friendly smile. “I won’t bite.” 

Warily, Yuta shuffled over to Doyoung. He stood himself next to the baker, his hands joined together at his front. Everything about Yuta’s appearance made Doyoung want to laugh; Yuta who had been acting all mysterious and broody and serious before, was now standing like a clueless, lost child. A part of Doyoung felt sorry for the man, but he also found it quite entertaining. If he had to use a single word to describe Yuta in that moment, it would have to be cute. 

“I take it you’ve never baked before?” 

Yuta hummed. 

“Have you ever been in a kitchen?” 

Yuta nodded. 

“Have you ever cooked anything?” 

“I have. But not for a while,” Yuta stated. “I usually had my meals prepared.” 

“Living in the lap of luxury,” Doyoung joked. He didn’t expect a knight to cook, probably having a diet set in place. 

“You could say that.” 

“Well, I’ll show you a few things,” Doyoung said. “Who knows, you might end up being good enough for me to hire.” 

“Hire me?” 

Doyoung shrugged. “I mean, why not? I’m sure you probably want to leave as soon as you can, and do whatever it is that you’ll do, but you might need some money,” the baker explained. “I’m giving you an offer- but only if you don’t set the kitchen on fire. What do you think?” 

The man in question set his lips in a thin line, thinking over Doyoung’s words carefully. “That would... that would be nice,” he admitted. “But I can’t bake,” he then added. 

“That’s why I’ll show you,” Doyoung said. “You might even end up liking it. And if you don’t, you could always help out up front with serving customers. I’m sure Jaehyun wouldn’t mind the extra help.” 

Yuta hummed. “What should I do then?” 

Doyoung smiled. Though Yuta didn’t exactly sound too enthusiastic, he still was willing to take part in whatever Doyoung had in store for him which was rather pleasant in its own way. Doyoung would gladly share his love and the wonders and joys of baking to absolutely anyone that came his way – that's how he ended up pursuing his dreams in the first place: by annoying his parents until they let him open his own bakery. 

He talked so much about it until they finally helped him move out and find a place to open his new business. Of course, he knew his parents were proud, but they probably were glad to have Doyoung out of the house since they didn’t have to hear him ramble about new recipes until the dead of night. 

“I want to try a few new things,” Doyoung explained. “Some new seasonal tarts, so we’ll make the pastry for that. Sounds good?” 

Yuta shrugged. “I guess.” 

With that, they got to work. 

Doyoung guided Yuta around the kitchen, taking into consideration the tasks he could set the man without A: causing chaos in the kitchen, and B: without straining Yuta’s body too much. He kept Yuta within a small area of the kitchen so that the injured man wouldn’t have to walk around too much. Yuta would pass Doyoung ingredients and equipment, he’d weigh and measure, and he’d carefully observe and listen intently to what Doyoung said. 

And Yuta listened. He really did listen. 

Doyoung got so into baking, finding himself in his element, that he failed to realise until he took a short break to catch his breath that Yuta was soaking up every word he spoke. There was a sense of awe in his eyes – something that Doyoung hadn’t seen up until now from the man. It was so genuine and so heart-warming. Everything that Doyoung said, Yuta took note of; he listened to the tips and advice coming from personal experience, nodding and making a note of it despite probably not really understanding what was happening. 

It was sweet. 

Sweet and cute. 

The baker wanted to laugh. Cute? Did he really call the same dishevelled, ragged, wounded man that came knocking at his door in the middle of a rainstorm, cute? It didn’t seem right, but it was true. Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, Doyoung had to admit that Yuta was quite cute in his own charming way. 

As he kept looking closer at Yuta, Doyoung also had to admit that Yuta was actually rather handsome too with his long, chestnut hair sweeping over his dark brown eyes, plump lips, clear and dewy skin. But a knight probably had to look good too for whatever reason there may have been. Doyoung didn’t know if that was actually true, but he had never actually seen a below average looking knight, so maybe his theory had some substance to it. 

Right. The baking. 

Doyoung got Yuta to carefully place the trays with the pastry into the roaming oven. Thankfully, Yuta managed to do that much without burning himself. 

“Whilst that bakes, let’s clean up a bit,” Doyoung said. He handed a clean rag to Yuta, taking another one for himself. 

Yuta wiped down the surface closest to him, scrubbing at the flour and other remnants of pastry which had stuck to the counter. He scrubbed and scrubbed, his tongue sticking out when he was having some difficulty. 

Doyoung realised something when they were preparing the pastry, but now as Yuta was doing something that required just a bit more physical effort, he was sure he was seeing it right. Yuta struggled. Yuta struggled with any task that had him exert more energy than picking up a mug of water. 

Yuta barely used his left hand, even if it would have been beneficent to him. And when he did, Doyoung could practically feel the pain as if it was his own. 

Doyoung should have let Yuta rest more. 

“I think that’s enough,” Doyoung said, wrapping his hand around Yuta’s wrist, halting his movements. “You can go back now.” 

“What?” 

Instead of speaking, Doyoung’s eyes fell onto Yuta’s side, and Yuta understood. 

“It’s nothing serious,” Yuta argued. 

Doyoung wanted to laugh. “Nothing serious?” He scoffed. “It’s a deep wound. I- if I knew it was giving you so much trouble, I wouldn’t have asked you to join me. Let go,” Doyoung said, referring to the rag. 

Reluctantly, Yuta let go and pulled his hand back. 

“You can go now.” 

“Do I have to?” Yuta asked, sounding rather averse to the idea of going back upstairs. 

“I mean... you can stay here,” Doyoung replied. “As long as you don’t do anything.” 

“Can I breathe?” 

Doyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, you can breathe. You can also talk, though you don’t have to. I can tell you don’t like talking a lot, or at least you don’t like talking around me,” Doyoung added, looking away from Yuta as he said the last part. “Not that I mind. I’m not too talkative myself, so it’s fine if it’s quiet between us.” 

“I...” Yuta spoke up, causing Doyoung to whip his head around to look back at the man. A silence followed, but it was soon put to an end when Yuta spoke again. “Do I come off like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Cold,” Yuta elaborated. 

“Oh...” 

Did he? Honestly, a bit, yes. 

Their first interaction wasn’t exactly warm and pleasant – not when the first thing Doyoung did was fear for his life when Yuta first opened his eyes and grabbed onto him. It also didn’t help how Yuta barely spoke, and when he did, his utterances mainly consisted of short sentences, or he came off as uninterested and bored or blunt and uncooperative. That and his appearance too. Though he was handsome, there was something about Yuta’s eyes that made Doyoung feel... he didn’t exactly know how he felt. It was a strange, unknown feeling that caused Doyoung’s stomach to twist and turn. 

But Yuta also was more than that. In the moments spent baking together, Doyoung saw a completely different person than he saw laying in his bed. There was a spark of light behind his eyes, a look that filled the man with life and warmth. 

Yuta was cold, but that icy exterior was thawing. At least that’s what Doyoung thought he saw. 

“Somewhat, yes,” Doyoung replied honestly. 

Yuta nodded faintly. “Sorry,” he uttered after a brief silence. 

“It’s okay,” Doyoung assured. “Really.” 

The other man wasn’t having it though. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You’ve... you’ve helped me a lot, and I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I’m just not someone that talks a lot. I’m not that used to it, you know, with how knights spend most of the time quiet and all,” Yuta explained. 

“I get it. And it makes two of us,” Doyoung added with a faint chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. “The only time I’ll talk a lot – and I mean a lot – is during an argument,” he stated, feeling a sense of accomplishment when he caused Yuta to smile – albeit very briefly and faintly. “I won’t shut up then.” 

“I’ll make a note to never argue with you then.” 

“Good idea,” Doyoung agreed. 

The air between them wasn’t as awkward as it was before at any point that led up to now. It was actually pleasant to say the least. 

“How do you know the capital’s dialect?” Yuta asked after a minute or so of standing around. Doyoung had gotten back to cleaning up so it seemed like the conversation would die there, but Yuta actually took the initiative to carry on. 

“Well,” Doyoung said, continuing to clean the worktop as he spoke. “I was taught it when I was young. In my home village we had a teacher whose daughter lived in the capital, so we had lessons. It’s not that hard once you get used to it,” Doyoung explained. “If anything, I’m more surprised you know our dialect.” 

“It’s a requirement,” Yuta stated. “The King’s twelve have- had, to know at least three dialects. Most went for three from the south since they’re the closest to the capital’s, but what’s the point of that? I know this, the middle north-east, and the south-west dialects.” 

“Impressive,” Doyoung acknowledged. “The north-east dialects are too strange. There’s too many unique rules in it for me.” 

“It’s not all that bad,” Yuta mused. 

Doyoung hummed, finishing off cleaning up the kitchen. He discarded of the rag in the sink, letting out a relieved exhale afterwards. Now all that there was left to do was wait. In the meantime, it seemed like Doyoung and Yuta would actually talk amongst themselves. That honestly came as a surprise, but once some of that tension between them had been discarded, it came relatively easy to speak with Yuta. It didn’t feel like walking on eggshells anymore. 

“So you’re not from here?” Yuta questioned. 

“That’s right,” Doyoung replied. “I’m from an even smaller village than this one. I moved here when I turned nineteen,” he explained, leaning against the counter, his hands either side, holding him up. “So that’s over seven years at this point.” 

“You’re younger than me,” Yuta stated. 

“What?” Doyoung asked in disbelief. Then again, he didn’t know why he thought Yuta was younger than him. Maybe it was because Doyoung was taking care of Yuta, hence he assumed he was the older one out of them two. “How old are you?” 

“Twenty-seven,” Yuta replied. 

That came as a surprise. “Only a year older?” 

“Seems so,” Yuta replied. “Shocked?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” the younger answered. “That’s pretty young,” he pointed out. “When did you become a knight then?” 

“When I was born,” Yuta replied. “It’s a family tradition. I trained since I could walk, and I officially started my duties at eighteen, being promoted to the King’s twelve at twenty-two.” 

“Impressive.” 

Yuta shrugged. “It’s in the family. Well, was. But that was obvious even before the mess I caused.” 

Doyoung frowned, feeling pity for the older. 

“It’s a shame though,” Yuta continued. 

“What is?” 

“I really don’t know anything else other than being a knight,” Yuta said. “I can’t cook, I can barely even clean. I have no purpose in life. I really should have just-” 

“Don’t,” Doyoung warned. “Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” 

That did the trick. Yuta kept his mouth shut. 

“And it’s not true,” Doyoung argued. “I understand you may feel lost now, but I know things will change. Give yourself some time. Time to heal, not only physically.” 

“I’ll try,” Yuta said. 

“Good. And in the meantime, whilst you work on that, you can learn a few new things from me.” 

“I can’t bake.” 

“Not yet,” Doyoung corrected. “But soon, you will.” 

*** 

When Doyoung came back up after a long day of work, he was pleasantly surprised to see Yuta sat at the small round table by the kitchen. The man was taking careful sips of steaming tea from a mug, a tart Doyoung brought in at the end of the previous day on his plate, half eaten already. 

Yuta acknowledged Doyoung’s presence with a glance his way, followed with a polite smile and a nod of the head. 

The younger yawned, walking towards Yuta. “How are you?” He asked, going behind the older to make himself a cup of tea. 

“Good,” Yuta replied briefly. “You?” 

“Tired,” Doyoung stated. “I’m good though. It was fairly busy today and I have a lot of special orders for the festival,” he explained. 

The festival in question was a yearly occurrence, meant to celebrate the founding of the kingdom hundreds of years ago. It tended to be quite a busy time, even in a small and quiet village. Doyoung loved the festival just as much as everyone else did, hence why he had so many orders for the big day since everyone knew he would be closed by the time the sun started to set. 

Yuta hummed. 

“And what about you, do you have any special requests? Maybe a favourite festival food? I do make a good King’s pie if I do say so myself.” 

“No requests,” Yuta said. 

Doyoung shrugged. “Makes things easier for me,” he mused, pouring in some water in the kettle before placing it on the stove, the water slowly boiling. In the meantime, Doyoung sauntered over to Yuta who was enjoying his tart. 

The younger looked Yuta up and down, his eyes focusing on the area he knew had that nasty wound. He frowned; his arms folded over his chest. 

“Can I help?” Yuta asked, looking up at Doyoung with questioning eyes. 

“Can I see?” 

“Be my guest,” Yuta replied, putting his pastry down, pushing his chair back a bit so that Doyoung could have better access to the injury. 

Doyoung crouched down by Yuta’s side, lifting up the fabric of his shirt to reveal the patched-up wound. There was no bandage around it anymore, allowing for the skin to breathe now that the bleeding was not as common. Yuta took better care of his body now, reassuring Doyoung when it came to the healing process. 

Still, the area didn’t look too pretty. The skin around the gash was bruising, but the discolouration was less vivid than it was the last time Doyoung had checked, so that was definitely a relief. The stitches were also holding up well, definitely aiding in the healing process. Doyoung was proud to say that he did a decent job after all, but he wasn’t looking forward to taking said stitches out. Hopefully, Mrs Han would have returned by that point, mainly because Doyoung had no actual clue as to how he should go about it. 

“It looks good,” Doyoung said. “Not great, but better. Don’t strain yourself and you’ll be fine.” 

“I’m not left-handed, so that should be easy,” Yuta said. 

There really wasn’t anything else to check, but Doyoung remained as he was, carefully observing Yuta’s skin. He stroked the flesh gently, tracing healed scars with the tips of his fingers, the feeling of the bumpy, coarse texture beneath him strange but alluring in its own way. 

He also drew an outline of the bruise around the large wound, the discoloured patch of skin going to Yuta’s navel. When he softly touched the skin, Yuta took in a sharp breath, reminding Doyoung of what he was doing. 

Doyoung looked up, his eyes meeting instantly with Yuta’s. 

Something felt so unusual about the situation. There was something about it that made Doyoung’s stomach and throat tighten unexplainably. It wasn’t fear in the same way he had experienced it before. It was something different that Doyoung couldn’t have put his finger to. It was something new he didn’t fully understand just yet. 

But it was Yuta’s expression that confused Doyoung the most. Yuta had never looked as taken aback – so seemingly pliant – as he did in that moment. 

Seconds passed where the two remained just as they were, staring at each other without moving or averting their gazes in the slightest. The thing that finally brought that unusual moment to an end was the sharp whistle of the kettle. 

“Sorry,” Doyoung uttered, standing up and letting go off Yuta’s shirt. He hurried over to take the kettle off the stove, pouring the hot water into a mug with tea leaves already placed in it. 

That sure was strange. 

*** 

Sharing the bed with Yuta had become somewhat of a norm for Doyoung – especially on the days when he was particularly exhausted. Surprisingly, Doyoung had grown used to it fairly quickly. He actually liked how the bed felt warmer with another person under the covers. And even though they stayed separated, drawing a line in between their bodies with a spare pillow, Yuta’s presence was quite comforting. 

Doyoung never expected something like that. He always thought sharing the bed with somebody else would be rather bothersome and tedious as it became a battle for personal space. But no, Yuta kept to his own segment of the bed, so that was good. 

As the rain softly hit the window to the bedroom with a faint pitter patter, Doyoung rolled over onto his other side. He was tired, but his body was currently having an argument with the part of him that wanted nothing more than to just sleep. Whatever the issue was, he would still have ended up passed out cold sooner or later. 

Doyoung made himself comfortable, slipping a hand under his pillow, the other one going on top. He could see Yuta in that position. 

The older was on his back, and though that wasn’t the most comfortable of positions – at least in Doyoung’s opinion – it was one of the only positions the man could sleep in without risking feeling constant pain from his wounds. 

Doyoung had to say, the lighting in the room gave Yuta a mystical appearance as if he had just stepped out of the countless books Doyoung had read over the course of his life. Now that he thought about it, Yuta looked so much like the knights he pictured in all the great stories he heard at night as his mother or father read him and his brother to sleep. Yuta had that elegance to him, the striking, pure beauty that would melt the heart of the maiden the knight would always save in all those stories. 

It probably wasn’t wrong to assume that Yuta had quite a few admirers back home. With a face like that, it was a given. 

Doyoung wondered if there was someone Yuta liked. Was there anyone Yuta loved back where he came from? From Yuta’s reluctance to go back, Doyoung assumed that the answer was no, but that could have also not been the case; maybe the shame of his actions – though Doyoung really hated that Yuta blamed himself – made him feel like he couldn’t return. 

That seemed sad. 

Doyoung wasn’t an expert on love, deeming himself happy just as he was: single. But he also wasn’t completely opposed to love; he found his friends’ relationships sweet and charming and he wished them well, and even the thought of any of them having troubles hurt him too. If Yuta had someone he loved and he was running away from it due to his own worries, well... that made Doyoung sad. 

Yuta was sweet and deserved to be loved too. 

But Doyoung couldn’t do anything about whatever relationship troubles Yuta was having. 

Suddenly, Doyoung was met with a pair of dark eyes staring right back at him. 

He was caught staring. 

Doyoung felt his heart skip a beat, breath hitching. 

He expected Yuta to say something about it. And maybe he did, but Doyoung didn’t understand. 

That darn north-east dialect. 

Whatever Yuta said, it didn’t sound harsh. Doyoung didn’t know the best way to describe just how Yuta sounded as he spoke, but it was quite soft – a bit raspy and thick with sleep, but soft nevertheless. It sent a shiver down Doyoung’s spine, and so the younger quickly forced his eyes shut, pretending like he hadn’t just been looking at Yuta for a good two or three minutes. 

Doyoung focused on falling asleep, but he still heard Yuta mumbling, only to finally have the man grow silent again. 

That night, Doyoung dreamed of a knight. 

A handsome, young knight. 

***

With the festival soon approaching, the hours ticking by one by one, Doyoung had a lot on his plate. He decided to wake up even earlier to get a head start on the things he had to get done before the next day. Two days had just passed like that, and the preparations for the festival were already being set in place so that they would be ready for when the celebrations got into full swing by next evening. 

Maybe he overestimated himself and his ability to take on so many orders by himself. But that was fine, he’d just have Jaehyun work overtime – with compensation, of course. 

As he worked the dough for a large batch of bread, Doyoung heard a creak in the floorboards behind him. Any other time, Doyoung would have been petrified by the sound, but he wasn’t now. There could only be one explanation for the creak, and that was Yuta. 

Doyoung looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Yuta was much closer to him than he expected. The younger offered the newcomer a warm smile, his hands busy with kneading the dough on the counter. “Morning,” he greeted. “You’re up early.” 

“Noticed you left earlier,” Yuta said. “How come?” 

“Busy day ahead,” the younger explained. “I was planning on getting as much done as I can to prepare for tomorrow. Plus, I have quite a few special orders for today too, so I have my hands full.” 

Yuta hummed, taking note of the mess around Doyoung. 

Doyoung didn’t have time to stand still doing nothing, so as Yuta looked around, Doyoung continued on with the bread dough, satisfied with the result after a few more kneads. He set that batch aside to let it rest, covering it up. With that done, he started working on the next batch of dough. 

“Can I help?” Yuta asked after a while. 

“Help?” 

The older nodded. 

“You want to?” 

Once again, Yuta nodded. 

“What about your-” 

“I’ll cope,” Yuta assured. “I can work at the counter, or clean up. Anything to help.” 

Doyoung looked at Yuta, his heart swelling. “Thank you,” he said, a genuine glee to his voice. “That would mean a lot. But if anything starts hurting, or you need a break, then just go. I won’t mind.” 

“Okay.” 

“In that case, maybe I’ll get Jaehyun helping me out in the kitchen,” Doyoung mused. “I’ll just have you work the counter.” 

“Fine by me.” 

With that settled, Doyoung felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe an extra helping hand could do some wonders. 

“You want some help now?” Yuta asked soon thereafter. 

Doyoung looked around. “You know, yes,” he replied. “Could you throw some flour over here?” He asked, his hands busy with batch two of his bread. 

Yuta nodded, quickly coming over to Doyoung’s side. He reached for the bag of flour on the counter, grabbing a handful of it, spreading it over the counter. Doyoung didn’t think it was possible to mess up with such a simple task, but he was proven wrong when Yuta flicked his wrist and threw the flour on Doyoung’s apron instead of the counter like the younger had asked him to. 

For a minute, all Doyoung could do was stand still, his face frozen in a state of disbelief. 

Next to him, Yuta gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. 

Slowly, Doyoung turned his head to look at Yuta. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta apologised. “I- I don’t know how I did that,” he said. Though he was apologising, Doyoung heard the laughter in his voice. “Really, I’m so sorry,” the man added, trying to force down the chuckles threatening to spill past his lips. 

“How?” Was all Doyoung could say. 

“I don’t know,” Yuta replied, letting an airy laugh out when he could tell Doyoung wasn’t mad. 

How could Doyoung be mad? If anything, he was just utterly shocked. 

“You want to try again?” Doyoung asked. “This time without wasting flour and ruining my apron?” 

Yuta nodded, hiding his humoured grin as he looked down to the bag of flour. 

He had a pretty laugh. 

A pretty smile too. 

Doyoung liked it a lot. 

He wouldn’t mind hearing more of it. 

“I think I’ve lost control in my hand,” Yuta mused, grabbing another handful of flour. “Have I gone completely useless? Here’s hoping I don’t break anything around here.” 

Doyoung chuckled. Once he did, he became hyperaware of it. 

It had been a while since he laughed – genuinely that was. At work, he’d have plenty of people come in, some would stop for a chat as Doyoung grabbed their orders, they’d talk and out of politeness, Doyoung would make himself laugh and nod along. He didn’t hate the people coming in and out, but he also couldn’t possibly care about everything everyone had to say. 

He laughed around his friends, but it seemed like the days Doyoung spent with his friends was now far and few in between. He was okay with that; Doyoung didn’t mind that, not feeling lonely after days alone. But then again, for the past two or so weeks, Doyoung hadn’t really been alone. 

Yuta had been with him. 

And Yuta had made him laugh. 

It was nothing funny, but Doyoung felt the need to express his joy. 

A joy, but a joy for what exactly? 

Doyoung couldn’t exactly say, but he was enjoying talking to Yuta. He liked the older, the way he spoke, his somewhat dry humour. Being around Yuta felt right, even with how shortly they had known each other – and how little they actually knew about the other. But it felt right. 

Yuta’s presence felt right these days. 

Before he knew it, Doyoung caught himself staring. 

Yuta had thrown the flour where he wanted, preventing the dough from sticking to the surface beneath. He was ridding his hands of the flour, clapping his hands before deciding to just wipe them down on his white blouse. It blended in so nobody would notice anyway. 

Doyoung’s eyes were glued to the older; he watched his hands move, but most importantly, he focused on his eyes and lips; he stared at that subtle curve up of his lips and that glimmer behind his eyes. He looked happy too. And when Yuta was happy, Doyoung felt at ease, his heart light. 

But his throat was tight. 

And his stomach churned. 

And he could only look. 

He could only stare until Yuta caught him red handed. 

Their eyes locked, and Doyoung felt embarrassed. 

But Yuta said nothing, his smile faltering, yet the look behind his eyes showed no discomfort. There was some confusion and apprehension, a bit of shock, but amidst all that, Doyoung caught a glimpse of something softer. 

It was something Doyoung never experienced before. 

He had seen that look before, but it was never directed at him. 

And now that it was, Doyoung didn’t know what to think and feel. He was lost, and before he knew it, he looked away, a bashful smile on his lips. 

“There’s a spare apron,” Doyoung pointed out. “Go put that on.” 

“Yes boss,” Yuta said. He took a small step back, his eyes lingering over Doyoung before he spun on his heel, heading to the rack with all the aprons. One was Jaehyun’s, his name sewn into the black fabric, but the other was free of any name, being used by the likes of Taeil or anyone that decided to help Doyoung out on occasion. 

As Yuta grabbed the item, Doyoung looked down at his hands. 

Surely, he was seeing things wrong. 

And surely, he wasn’t feeling what he thought he was feeling. 

That simply didn’t make sense. 

It just didn’t. 

Or did it? 

No. 

Maybe? 

Doyoung shook his head, a baffled smile on his face. There was no way on earth that he had developed any feelings for Yuta – in less than a month too! Doyoung didn’t do... well, _that_. He wasn’t the type to have crushed or to have any romantic feelings towards anyone. Besides, apart from the fact that it was ridiculous, Doyoung’s plan for the future didn’t involve anyone by his side, and it definitely didn’t involve a man that he met not so long ago. 

But he couldn’t deny that he did feel a certain, strange type of way around Yuta. 

It was all so bizarre, and Doyoung wanted nothing more than to ignore said feelings, brushing them aside until they disappeared. Because they would. He knew they would. 

Yuta put his head through the loop of the apron with ease, however it was the straps that went around his middle that he struggled with. When he tried to reach his left arms behind him, he winced. 

“Come here,” Doyoung said, leaving the dough for a minute to help Yuta. 

The older stepped towards Doyoung, letting him tie the straps for him. 

Doyoung reached around Yuta, finding their bodies closer than he expected. He sucked his lips in, pretending like he didn’t feel like his heart had just started pounding against his chest. It was stupid. He knew it was. 

The younger was careful with how he tied the apron, making sure he didn’t make it too tight in the case it would somehow irritate one of Yuta’s countless wounds. 

“Thanks,” Yuta said once Doyoung was done. He stepped back. “I feel at least fifty years older in this body right now,” he joked. 

“It’ll be better soon,” Doyoung assured. “Though you might want to exercise a bit.” 

“I thought you told me not to push myself too much,” Yuta pointed out. 

Doyoung wanted to argue, lifting his finger, only to drop it once he realised that Yuta was in fact correct. “Well, I’m not a doctor, am I? Just be careful. Don’t try doing handstands or other absurd things like that.” 

Yuta snorted, nodding his head. “Okay. I won’t.” 

With that sorted, the younger went back to his bread dough. 

Doyoung and Yuta worked alongside each other until it was time to finally open up – well, not technically, but it was time to open the doors for Jaehyun. As expected, Jaehyun came not more than a minute after Doyoung unlocked the front doors. When he stepped in, he absentmindedly walked over to the counter, reaching for his apron, only realising there was another person after he tied the apron behind himself. 

“Umm...” Jaehyun looked at Doyoung, his hand close to his chest as he pointed over to Yuta by the sink. “Who's he?” He asked. 

At that, Yuta looked over his shoulder, sparing Jaehyun a quick glance before he went back to cleaning a bowl Doyoung had asked him to clean. 

“Oh,” Doyoung said. “That’s Yuta,” he explained, offering Jaehyun a smile. 

“Okay...” 

“He’ll be helping us out for today,” Doyoung added. “It’s going to be a bit hectic around here with the festival tomorrow.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” Jaehyun agreed. “Yuta, was it?” He then asked, directing the question at the man now drying his hands off. 

Yuta hummed. 

So he really wasn’t the best with strangers. How would he cope with working the counter? 

Maybe Doyoung had to re-evaluate what job he would task the older man with. 

“Jaehyun,” Jaehyun introduced himself. Receiving only a nod from Yuta, he turned to Doyoung. “Where did you get him from?” 

“Huh?” 

“Where did you find him?” Jaehyun asked. “I’ve never seen him around.” 

“Oh...” Doyoung looked at Yuta, their eyes briefly meeting. Something told Doyoung that Yuta didn’t want anybody else knowing of his situation or his place of origin. Doyoung could respect that, deciding to make a harmless lie. “Oh, Yuta came from the village close to mine,” he explained. “Our parents were friends, so he came here to work.” 

Jaehyun didn’t seem to find anything about the story suspicious. He hummed. “In that case, that’s good. Though, he’s not very talkative, is he?” 

Doyoung sighed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Can you help him around the counter? Once he gets used to it, come help me in the back.” 

“Can be done,” Jaehyun stated. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung called and the man in question quickly looked over, standing at the ready. It was quite endearing with how he stood, eyes wide and expectant. He still looked like he didn’t belong, somewhat awkward around the new environment, but Doyoung knew that that would change soon enough. 

“Yes?” 

“Jaehyun will show you around, listen to him carefully.” 

The older nodded, taking steps over to Jaehyun. 

“Oh, and if you feel like you need a break, just go,” Doyoung added. He then turned to Jaehyun who seemed confused. Right. How would Doyoung explain that to Jaehyun? 

“I’ve got a big wound,” Yuta explained, surprising Doyoung with how blunt he was. “Got thrown off my horse and landed on a fence,” he added. “Want to see?” 

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Umm... I’m fine, thanks.” 

Yuta shrugged. 

So, with that out of the way, the bakery opened – for real this time. 

People started flooding in after a while, and luckily, Jaehyun managed to give Yuta a rather thorough rundown of everything in the ten or so minutes before the first customers came pouring in. Yuta was coping well, shadowing Jaehyun and learning on the job whilst Doyoung was working diligently at the back, filling the displays with fresh goods as soon as they came out of the oven and then setting the next batches to bake. 

“He has the hang of it,” Jaehyun said, appearing by Doyoung’s side. 

The older of the two looked over his shoulder, seeing Yuta serving the next customer by himself. Despite a shaky start, he was doing surprisingly well. 

“Let me help you now,” Jaehyun offered. 

*** 

“That was fun, right?” Doyoung asked, a faint laugh to his words as he counted the cash earned today. Yuta and Jaehyun were sat at the table closest to the counter, both men enjoying some of the left-over cupcakes. “First day on the job. How was it?” 

“Not bad,” Yuta admitted, peeling back the paper around his cupcake before taking another big bite. The man had already been through three of the sweet treats, but Doyoung didn’t judge – if anything, he was happy that Yuta was enjoying the cakes that much. He made a note to make some more of those for Yuta on another day when things weren’t so chaotic. 

“You did pretty well,” Jaehyun complimented. “It actually felt nice having someone else around. Doyoung can be a bit of a pain at times.” 

Doyoung scowled. “That’s coming out of your pay,” he said, not actually meaning it though. 

“See?” Jaehyun asked, laughing. “He’s a pain.” 

Yuta glanced over to Doyoung, looking at the younger through the corner of his eyes. Their gazes met, and the second felt like it dragged on for minutes on end. 

“He’s not bad,” Yuta then confessed, the words soft and genuine. 

Doyoung’s heart fluttered. 

He looked down back at his hands, staring at the money in his grasp. He cursed at himself for momentarily losing count. 

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You won’t say that after working here for a week.” 

Doyoung shook his head, a smirk of disbelief on his lips. Before he could start arguing, Jaehyun laughed. 

“Just joking,” Jaehyun said. “You’re wonderful, husband material even.” 

“Don’t let Sicheng hear you say that,” Doyoung muttered, a playful smile to him. 

Yuta looked between the two, eyebrows raised. “Who’s that?” 

“Sicheng?” Jaehyun asked. “My boyfriend.” 

“Oh,” Yuta uttered, going back to his food. 

After a few more minutes – after Jaehyun had finished his cupcake – the youngest amongst the three stood up, grabbing the paper bag he set aside with some of the other leftover goods for his boyfriend at home. “I should get going,” he announced. “We still have some festival preparations to get done,” he explained. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll come by a bit earlier as well to help with the madness.” 

“Thanks,” Doyoung said. “Take care.” 

“You too,” Jaehyun said, before turning to Yuta. “It was nice meeting you.” 

Yuta offered a smile to the younger, nodding his head. 

And so, Jaehyun left, leaving only Doyoung and Yuta now. 

For a few minutes as Doyoung recounted the cash and set aside the wages, adding an extra pile for Yuta. The day’s turnout was good, which was expected from such a busy period, which is why Doyoung added a small bonus to his two employees. 

“Do you want me to store it for you for now?” Doyoung asked, pointing to the small pile belonging to Yuta. 

Yuta seemed shocked by the question. 

“What? I told you, I’ll pay you if you work here.” 

“Oh... well,” Yuta said, thinking of what he should do with the money. “I don’t have anywhere to store it, so...” 

Doyoung nodded. “I’ll set it aside then,” he said. “I’ll keep it upstairs. You can get it whenever you want.” 

“Thanks,” Yuta said. 

Exhaling, Doyoung was satisfied with his maths. 

“Well then, time to get going,” he said. “I’m tired. You?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

“In that case, let’s go up. Are you hungry?” 

“Not really,” Yuta replied, looking over to the stash of paper wrappers on the table. Doyoung didn’t even know why he asked. “Are you?” 

“Maybe,” Doyoung replied. He wasn’t sure. He was on his feet for so many hours and the thought of eating didn’t really come across him. Of course, he did have something, though it was nothing more than a bread roll he snatched from the tray as soon as Jaehyun pulled it out of the oven. He didn’t care that it burned his tongue and hands. “I’m too tired to make anything though,” he groaned, grabbing the money and getting ready to go back upstairs. 

“I can make you something,” Yuta offered. Doyoung wasn’t sure if he heard that right, barely hearing the older man as he spoke. 

“Huh?” 

Yuta looked down at the table, grabbing all the wrappers up, scrunching them up in his grasp as he stood up to follow after Doyoung. “I said I can make you something,” he repeated. “I’m not a good cook, but I can at least make a sandwich.” 

Doyoung smiled, feeling touched by the suggestion. “That- that would be really nice,” he said. “Thank you.” 

The two men headed upstairs with Yuta throwing the wrappers away on the way. Yuta went up the stairs first with Doyoung quickly locking up before following the older man. He was heading straight to the bathroom, sparing Yuta a quick glance as he passed him. Yuta was already getting things ready to make Doyoung something to eat and the younger definitely found that sweet and a pleasant change of pace. 

Doyoung hurried to his bedroom, grabbing a change of clean pyjamas, throwing the garments over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom. 

He didn’t take long, not bothering with lounging around in the bath for ages. Doyoung wanted to just clean himself off and be done with it for the day. It did feel so good though, to wash away all the stress and exhaustion from the long, tough day. Thankfully, tomorrow would be shorter, and Doyoung could celebrate like every other person did. 

Just as he thought of the festival, Yuta’s face popped up in his head. 

Would the older go out with him, or would he just stay at Doyoung’s place? 

Doyoung stepped out, now dressed in a fresh pair of pyjamas, his hair ruffled every-which way, water droplets dripping down to his neck and back. He threw the towel around his neck, not bothering with properly drying his hair. 

He walked into the kitchen, finding Yuta standing around awkwardly. The older had made Doyoung sandwiches as well as tea for the both of them. 

Doyoung smiled. 

It felt odd – a good odd – to have someone else make something for him. After so many years of basically doing everything for himself by himself, it was a pleasant change. It was nice. Really nice, actually. 

“Thank you,” the younger said, taking a seat at the small table, the plate with his food already placed down in front of him. Yuta offered a soft smile, taking hold of his mug and sipping on his tea. “Are you going to sit?” 

Yuta nodded, pulling out the other chair. It was good that Doyoung decided to keep the second chair around after seriously contemplating either chucking it out or taking it down to the bakery instead of having it take up space in his limited living area. He never needed a second chair. He never needed two of anything, but having Yua around changed that. 

“Thanks for helping out,” Doyoung said. “You did well.” 

Yuta shrugged. “I didn’t do much,” he pointed out, finishing his sentence with drinking more of his tea. 

“You did plenty,” Doyoung argued. “Trust me, you helped a lot. Did you like it? I know you said it wasn’t bad, but do you have anything else to add?” 

“It was... okay,” Yuta said. “New, but I didn’t hate it.” 

“That’s something at least,” Doyoung mused before taking a bite of his sandwich. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but then again, it was difficult to fuck up a simple sandwich. It was just two slices of bread with a few toppings, what was there to mess up? 

“And also,” Yuta started, finding Doyoung’s eyes across the table. “I actually think that I could do this for longer. Working here, that is. If you don’t mind.” 

Doyoung took a second to process what Yuta said, but when he did, he grinned. “Mind? I’d be happy if you stuck around,” he stated. “Besides, I offered you work so I’d be thrilled if you stayed here.” 

Yuta nodded, smiling softly to himself. However, his smile soon faltered. “When do you think the news will come?” 

The younger sighed. “Honestly? With something this big, I would expect it to have come already, or at least to have it come soon. But maybe, with the festival happening, it’s best not to ruin everyone’s moods.” 

Yuta hummed. “You have a point. But when the news does finally come, can you do me a favour?” 

“Sure,” Doyoung replied. “What is it?” 

“Can you keep up that lie? I want to leave my past where it belongs: in the past.” 

“Of course,” the younger said. “And don’t worry, the people around here aren’t nosey. Most don’t question new faces. I remember when Ten moved over, most people just accepted he was here to stay and didn’t bother him. I’m sure it’ll be the same for you.” 

“Okay... thanks.” 

Doyoung returned to eating his sandwich, engaging in menial chatter with Yuta, not really saying much of value, only speaking to fill the silence. He didn’t mind the silence – not at all really, not when it had become actually rather comfortable to stay quiet together. However, Doyoung liked hearing Yuta talk. He liked the man’s voice, but more than that, he liked talking to the older, even if what they said held no meaning whatsoever. 

“By the way,” Doyoung spoke up, the thought of the festival coming across his mind once more. “Tomorrow, for the festival, do you want to go out? You can also stay in if you prefer that.” 

Yuta chewed on the inside of his cheek, staring Doyoung down. “What are you going to do?” 

“I usually go out,” the younger stated. “I like going further up the hill when it gets dark, you can see all the lights from up there. It’s pretty.” 

“You go alone?” 

Doyoung nodded. “Usually I meet up with my friends for the first part of the celebration and after that we split up. So, what’s it gonna be?” 

Yuta smiled; his eyes warm as they looked at Doyoung. “I’ll join you if you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” Doyoung said. “It’ll be fun. I can show you around the place too. It’s honestly so pretty. If you go high enough, you can even see the river. We can also go to the river, but that’s for another day.” 

As Doyoung spoke, Yuta kept his eyes fixed on him, a subtle curve to his lips. It made Doyoung stutter, bringing his ramblings to an end. 

“I- I think I’ll head to bed,” Doyoung said, not knowing how else to cope with the fluttering in his stomach. If he slept it off, then everything would be fine. “Thanks for everything,” he said as he stood up. He was about to pick up the plate, only to have Yuta stop him. 

“I’ll clean up,” the older said. 

“Oh... thanks. Also, if you’re not going to sleep yet, I have a few books around if you want to pass some time.” 

“I won’t be long,” Yuta explained. “I’ll join you in a bit.” 

At that, Doyoung could physically feel the blood rush to his face. He had to quickly look away, humming in acknowledgment. “Okay,” he muttered. “I’ll go now.” 

The man hurried over to the bedroom, his heart pounding. Why on earth did that affect him so much? Why did hearing Yuta say he’ll join Doyoung make the younger man feel so flustered? 

He knew, of course. 

He knew he had developed some sort of crush on Yuta. He knew that much, but that didn’t change the fact that it all felt so strange and new to Doyoung. He truly thought he could make the feelings disappear, but as he looked at Yuta more and more, and the more the strange sensation in his stomach turned into butterflies, Doyoung had a feeling that his newly discovered feelings towards Yuta wouldn’t vanish just like that. 

And Doyoung didn’t even know if he wanted to get rid of said feelings. 

Sure, everything was so new. It was against everything Doyoung had told himself. Having Yuta around ruined Doyoung’s perfectly crafted routine, it messed up his rhythm and his calm, uneventful life. Yuta’s presence wasn’t in the plan, yet Doyoung didn’t care. 

The days he had spent with Yuta – whilst chaotic and stressful at times – were actually the most eventful days in his life for quite the time. And, truth be told, Doyoung didn’t hate it. 

Doyoung didn’t hate having his perfect plan and routine broken. He enjoyed how each day was different thanks to Yuta. Yes, he still went to work as always, he saw the same faces just as he always did, but he had Yuta around him, and the older man changed everything. With Yuta, Doyoung’s boring, uneventful days had a little spark. 

And truly, now that he knew how that felt, Doyoung didn’t know how he would cope if that was taken away from him. 

So, maybe he had it quite bad. Like, _really_ bad considering the circumstances. 

Doyoung slipped under the covers, making himself comfortable in bed. And, as he laid there, it didn’t feel right, like there was something – _someone_ – missing. He truly had it bad, thinking only of how empty the bed felt now that Yuta wasn’t in it. At first, Doyoung was hyperaware of Yuta’s presence, finding it strange as he had to be careful of how he moved during the night, keeping his distance from Yuta, but now, Doyoung kept fixating on the fact that the bed was empty. Even though this was exactly how he spent each night for pretty much the entirety of his life, it all felt wrong. 

His bed shouldn’t be empty. 

The man rolled over onto his side, body facing the doors to the bedroom. He stared as he waited, struggling to sleep without the company of the older man. 

After maybe ten minutes, Doyoung heard the floorboards creak announcing Yuta’s presence. The older man had finished cleaning up, turning off the lights before stepping inside the bedroom. Doyoung kept his eyes closed, content now that Yuta was there. 

There was some shuffling, and Doyoung heard a soft thud as Yuta dropped his clothes onto the floor. 

Doyoung couldn’t help but take a peek. 

He had seen Yuta shirtless plenty of times before, but this felt different than all the times he cleaned and patched Yuta’s wounds. A lump formed in his throat, body tensing as he watched Yuta’s back, the muscles flexing as he picked out one of Doyoung’s shirts to sleep in. 

He couldn’t look any longer. 

Finally, Doyoung forced his eyes closed, pretending he was deep asleep at that point. 

Yuta let out a quiet, airy chuckle as he walked towards the bed. 

The older man crawled over Doyoung to get to his side of the bed. Technically, he didn’t have to do that. Whilst the bed was pressed to the wall, Yuta could have easily climbed over the foot of the bed and called it a day, but he didn’t. He just _had_ to go over Doyoung, his body briefly weighing down Doyoung. 

After a bit of shuffling, Yuta joined Doyoung under the covers. 

At first, it was quiet. 

That was, until Yuta decided to speak. 

However, this time, instead of speaking in a dialect Doyoung couldn’t understand, he spoke clearly, almost as if he wanted Doyoung to hear. 

“Care to share what’s going on in that head of yours?” Yuta uttered quietly. When there was no response, the man chuckled to himself. 

All Doyoung could do was pretend he was actually asleep, hoping that maybe that would encourage Yuta to speak freely. 

“Does it make you feel weird? I know your friends are... well, like that, but you? Does it make you uncomfortable, sharing a bed with someone like me?” 

Doyoung held his breath, wanting to stay as still as possible. However, he had to keep breathing, his body currently stiff and unnatural looking for someone who was supposed to be blissfully asleep. 

“A failed knight with blood on his hands, and to make things better, he’s gay. Does that make you feel uneasy?” 

Once more, Doyoung kept his silence, yet he could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. This wasn’t what he expected to happen. Not in the slightest. 

When no answer came, Yuta continued his one-sided conversation. “You know... I think you’re pretty... well, pretty great. And pretty too,” Yuta confessed, his words letting loose a swarm of butterflies in Doyoung’s stomach, his face heating up and heart beating like a drum. “I owe you my life. My pathetic, meaningless life. Until recently, I wished I would have died. I wish I died somewhere in the middle of the forest, bled out and just... died. You don’t- you couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much I just wanted to die,” he said, his voice choked up. “Without a King to serve, I was nothing. There’s still the prince, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes knowing everything was my fault. You know...” 

Yuta paused, the soft sniffling noise from behind Doyoung causing the younger man’s heart to shatter. 

“Do you want to know how I caused this mess?” Yuta asked, knowing he wasn’t going to receive a response. 

But Doyoung wanted to know. 

“I thought- I thought I finally found someone for me,” Yuta revealed. “I opened up to him, handed him my heart on a silver platter. He played me for nearly a year. And then... he went for the kill. The deepest wound, the one meant to kill me, he did that.” 

If Doyoung’s heart wasn’t shattered at that point, then it was now, additionally being stamped and trampled on. It wasn’t even his own heartbreak, but he felt it all so vividly despite never having his heart crushed in the first place. 

“I ran away, not because I cared about my life, but because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of killing me,” Yuta said. “But I was ready to die. But for some reason, I kept walking and walking for days until I ended up here, very much alive. And maybe... maybe I’m glad... After all, I met you.” 

Doyoung wanted to say _I’m glad too,_ but he couldn’t. If he did, he didn’t know what would happen. How would that affect their already strange relationship? It would be easier to pretend Doyoung was asleep and never heard anything Yuta said. 

But it was obvious that he was awake. Yuta knew he wasn’t talking to himself. 

For now, however, Doyoung would stay quiet. 

At least, that was his plan. 

“Doyoung,” Yuta called softly, his fingertips barely stroking the man’s upper back. The light touch brought shivers down his spine. “Thank you. For saving me, and for helping me find a new purpose.” 

Hit by a wave of irrational bravery, Doyoung decided to roll over onto his other side so that he now faced Yuta. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes closed for any longer, staring right at Yuta. 

The air was thick and suffocating, the tension tangible between them. 

All they did was look at each other. 

“What purpose?” Doyoung questioned. 

The older man smiled. 

“What purpose?” Doyoung repeated, his breath hitching as Yuta’s smile grew softer. He looked absolutely stunning in the minimal moonlight, his eyes lit up with all the stars in the night sky. 

“You,” Yuta uttered. 

Doyoung wanted to laugh. “Me? I’m not that great.” 

“Give yourself some credit,” Yuta said. “You saved a complete stranger and let him into your home. I think you’re pretty great.” 

The younger pursed his lips, trying to contain the giddy smile threatening to make itself known. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Doyoung didn’t even realise what he was saying until the words left his lips; he was embarrassed, but not enough to have his shame written all over his face. 

“Why? You don’t like it?” 

“It’s not that,” Doyoung replied, softly shaking his head. 

“Then?” 

Doyoung took in a shaky inhale. Then what? 

“I’ve never... well, you know,” the younger said, the words quieter than before. 

“Been with a man?” 

“Been with anyone,” Doyoung admitted. 

That seemed to take Yuta by surprise. The man’s eyes widened in shock, not expecting that response. “Seriously?” He questioned; his tone ridden with disbelief. “That’s... I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. “A face like yours and you’ve never been with anyone? Doesn’t seem right.” 

“Nobody’s ever been interested me.” 

“And what about me?” Yuta asked. 

Considering how Yuta had been constantly on Doyoung’s mind, it was safe to say that the younger was clearly interested. 

The silence was enough of an answer for Yuta who just grinned, the smile genuine and heart-warming. Doyoung would have told Yuta that he looked cute, but he couldn’t find it in him to speak now. 

“I like you,” Yuta confessed, successfully causing Doyoung’s heart to do a wide assortment of flips and spins. “But...” 

Oh no. There’s a _but_. 

“But?” 

“I’m a mess, if you haven’t noticed by now,” Yuta said. “Getting stabbed and betrayed by the man you thought loved you back would do that to anyone- that and seeing basically everyone around me die.” The man tried to brush it off as a joke, trying to laugh it off so that it wouldn’t hurt as much, but Doyoung could still clearly hear the pain weaved into the words. 

Doyoung reached his hand out, placing his palm on the edge of Yuta’s pillow where his own hand was. Their pinkies brushed and Doyoung offered a reassuring smile, his heart hitching in his throat when the older man slipped his hand under Doyoung’s, slotting their fingers together. 

“Thank you,” Yuta whispered. “For everything.” 

“It’s really nothing,” Doyoung said, his mind too preoccupied on how warm Yuta’s calloused hand was to think of a proper response. He liked the contact; he liked how soft it was, so tender and seemingly innocent if not for the fact that it meant so much more than anything else Doyoung has ever experienced with another person before. 

“It’s not nothing,” Yuta argued. “You’ve done so much.” 

“I just patched you up. You did all the fighting.” 

Yuta smiled; the sight being just as beautiful as always. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, squeezing Doyoung’s hand in his. 

“Kiss?” 

The older hummed. 

“I- I’m not good at it,” Doyoung explained with a nervous chuckle. “It won’t be the best kiss you’ve ever had.” 

Yuta snorted. “I’m not too bothered,” he said, shuffling closer to Doyoung before propping himself up on his shoulder. However, after clearly experiencing a jolt of pain, Yuta decided to just lay back done – if not a bit closer to Doyoung, their faces centimetres apart. Doyoung didn’t comment on it, his heart pounding in its cage. 

“Are you sure?” 

The older man nodded. “But I have one request,” he added, bringing his other hand to stroke Doyoung’s cheek, the touch feather-light, melting Doyoung into a puddle at the heavenly sensation. 

“What is it?” Doyoung asked, words breathy as he stared into Yuta’s dark brown eyes. 

“Don’t stab me,” the older said, earning a humoured scoff from Doyoung. 

“I wanted to throw up when I stitched you up,” Doyoung admitted. “I don’t think I could even leave a scratch on you- not that I’d even try.” 

Yuta laughed, cupping Doyoung’s cheek, his thumb stroking his cheekbones. “You’re beautiful,” he uttered softly, drawing their lips closer together. They were so close, and finally, Doyoung could feel Yuta’s hot breath over his lips. 

Doyoung’s eyes fluttered shut, allowing Yuta to take the lead in the moment. The older pulled Doyoung in, joining their lips in a chaste kiss to allow Doyoung to get used to the new feeling. Doyoung never cared much about relationships and all that came with it – including kissing and the likes of it. Granted, he had kissed before, but it wasn’t much, and never with another man. 

It felt amazing though. 

He loved how gentle Yuta was, how his lips were warm and soft, a faint lingering taste of tea and honey on them. And he was so delicate with his touch, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Doyoung’s smooth skin, drawing the younger deeper into the kiss. 

When Yuta licked over Doyoung’s lip, the man gasped, the small, airy sound parting his mouth and giving Yuta the opportunity to slither into Doyoung’s warm opening. He didn’t do anything spectacular, but Doyoung felt his body heating up, heart thumping and stomach swirling, his free hand reaching out to Yuta, resting partly on his neck and sharp jaw. 

Yuta smiled into the exchange, his tongue dancing languidly against Doyoung’s. The feeling of the curve of his lips was mind-boggling, utterly intoxicating. 

But Doyoung couldn’t handle it for much longer. As much as he wanted to keep going, keep kissing Yuta until his face turned blue, he needed to take a break to catch a breath. 

They parted reluctantly, their heavy, hot breaths exchanging in between them. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yuta said. “Don’t you think?” 

Doyoung bit his lip, nodding in reply. 

“But you could do with some extra practice,” Yuta added. 

“So it was bad,” Doyoung huffed, his amusement clear. 

The older laughed, brushing strands of Doyoung’s hair behind his ear. “Cute,” he murmured. 

“If it’s so bad, I think we have to practice some more.” 

“Good idea,” Yuta agreed, already leaning back in to capture Doyoung’s lips with his own. 

This time, Doyoung felt more comfortable with what he was doing. All he needed was a bit of a reminder, and once he got into the steady rhythm of the kiss, he was able to make the exchange that much better. 

Their tongues brushed together and Doyoung could taste Yuta’s sweetness, the syrup honey and the numerous treats he had before. Doyoung craved more and more, his body inching forward whilst his hand slithered down Yuta’s body, his hand clutching onto the fabric of his shirt, tugging Yuta towards himself. 

He was hooked, mind hazy as he pushed himself up, throwing his legs over the man’s lap, straddling him like he had done before. However, now, instead of tending to his wound, Doyoung was fixated on Yuta’s lips, a devastating hunger spreading through his entire being. He didn’t know what exactly it was that he wanted; all he knew was that he needed to be closer, to feel more and more of Yuta, his mind completely overtaken by the older man. 

Yuta welcomed the change in position, grinning against Doyoung’s lips, cupping Doyoung’s face with his hands, slowly dropping one further down and down until it reached Doyoung’s lithe waist. 

They were both getting heated, the air in the room thick unlike before. 

But Doyoung had to ruin it. As he got too eager, his hand moved down, pressing on Yuta’s deep cut. 

Yuta winced in pain, gasping at the sharp sting. 

Instantly, the younger panicked, practically jumping back. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over. “Yuta I’m- I didn’t mean to do that!” 

Yuta grasped his side, face scrunched up. 

It ached Doyoung to watch. 

After a minute which felt far longer than it was, Yuta relaxed, a smile appearing on his face. “Are you trying to kill me?” He joked, his groan dissipating into an airy chuckle. 

“That was an accident,” Doyoung said, still worried that he may have done some harm. So, the man quickly lifted up Yuta’s shirt to check on the wound. It looked fine. 

“Kiss it better,” Yuta suggested. “It’ll heal faster.” 

Doyoung didn’t know if Yuta was teasing him or if he actually wanted Doyoung to kiss the injury, but guessing by how they were just getting lost in the moment, Doyoung decided to swallow any shame he may have felt, and he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to Yuta’s skin. The older watched him attentively, stroking his fingers through Doyoung’s black hair as Doyoung kept his lips on Yuta, wishing for the man’s speedy recovery. 

“I’m sure it’ll heal better now,” Yuta uttered. 

Doyoung pressed another sweet kiss. 

And another. 

And the another, his plush lips slowly trailing further down, kissing along Yuta’s taught abdomen, his muscles defined and absolutely beautiful. He didn’t realise just how low he had gotten until he felt the material of Yuta’s pants beneath his lips. 

Doyoung looked up, blood pumping through his veins so fast he could feel it. He didn’t even know what he was doing, but the thought of what was hidden beneath the thin layer of fabric drove him crazy – a feeling so unusual yet exhilarating. 

Yuta’s pupils were blown as he stared right back at Doyoung. They both clearly wanted it – whatever it was – but they also felt the need to stop, to restrain themselves from going too far too quickly. 

And so, Doyoung pulled himself up, only going back to kiss Yuta on the mouth before laying himself down on his back. It was the right thing to do, and if what they felt towards each other was genuine, there was no rush. Besides, Yuta still had some healing to do before Doyoung would try anything funny, even with all of his inexperience. 

“Goodnight, Yuta,” Doyoung whispered, turning his body to face the older. 

“Goodnight, Doyoung.” 

***

The day of the festival was a hectic one and nobody could deny that. So, it was a given that Doyoung got up at the crack of dawn – if not even earlier – just so that he could whip up all the baked goods he had to for the busy day ahead. He still had quite a few orders to fulfil, so the earlier he started, the better and smoother his day would go. Just because he was locking up earlier than usual didn’t mean that he had less work to do, in fact, it meant he had more. Since he was the only bakery around, everyone was sure to swarm the bakery to get their goods before the day came to an end. 

And so, Doyoung had been working as soon as he got up and got dressed. He skipped breakfast, deciding to settle on a fresh bread roll once he got those out of the oven. 

And that would have been the plan, if not for Yuta. 

The man in question had come down far earlier than Doyoung would have expected, and when he did join Doyoung, the younger man realised that he had come bearing gifts in the form of freshly brewed tea and some sandwiches. 

“Morning,” Yuta greeted, placing the items down on the counter by Doyoung. 

“What’s all this?” Doyoung asked, looking down at the pleasant surprise. 

“Breakfast,” the older replied. “I would’ve tried something more adventurous, but I didn’t want to burn the whole place down. Hope this is good enough,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Yuta this is... that’s so sweet,” Doyoung said, his heart touched by the gesture. “Thank you. Did you really just wake up to do this for me?” 

The older man shrugged, his soft smile giving it away. “I noticed you got up early and you probably didn’t eat anything, so... yeah. I also thought I could help,” he added. “So, if there’s anything you need, just tell me.” 

Doyoung smiled. “Go grab your apron,” he said. 

“My apron? Am I getting a personalised one?” 

“When I get the time to get it embroidered, yes,” Doyoung replied. “For now, use the spare one.” 

Yuta nodded, hurrying to grab his apron. 

“Also, whilst you’re there, open up the front doors. The key is on the counter.” 

The older grabbed his apron, slung it around his neck and then went for the key, taking it up to unlock the front door. Once he was done, he returned to Doyoung, but not before washing his hands thoroughly so that he could get to work. He then asked Doyoung to tie his apron, the younger man gladly helping him out. 

“What should I do?” 

Doyoung looked around. There was so much to get done that even Doyoung didn’t know where to get started. Of course, he knew what he had to do, but he didn’t have a clue as to what he should have tasked Yuta with. 

He looked over to the dough he had ready to go. 

“You think you can make bread rolls?” Doyoung asked. “It’s not hard; you just have to knead some dough then make small balls and separate them on the baking tray.” 

Yuta nodded. “I can do that,” he stated. 

“Great. The trays are there,” the younger said, pointing to the neat stack. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Yuta had to do. 

However, despite it being obviously clear what Yuta’s task was, the man still struggled. 

Doyoung stared as Yuta kneaded the dough – or at least tried. It actually pained Doyoung to watch, and at a certain point he thought Yuta was just messing around, but that wasn’t the case. 

“Move up,” Doyoung ordered, lightly tapping Yuta on the arm. 

“Huh?” Yuta asked, taking a small step to the side. 

“You need to put some vigour into it,” the younger said, taking the dough in his hands and pressing down. “But don’t go too overboard or you can over knead it. If that happens then there’s no salvaging the dough. Understood?” 

Yuta nodded. 

“Okay, come here,” Doyoung continued, stepping back to allow Yuta to stand at the counter. He stood himself behind Yuta, stroking his hands down Yuta’s arms, stopping at the man’s hands. 

Doyoung couldn’t see Yuta’s facial expression, but if he had to guess, the man was pleased with the position. 

Without further ado, Doyoung guided Yuta through the process, showing him how much force to apply and how to knead the dough. 

“You’re doing good,” Doyoung praised. He stepped away, taking his place beside Yuta. 

“Thanks,” Yuta said, looking over at Doyoung with a smirk. “I had a great teacher.” He sent a wink Doyoung’s way, the gesture causing Doyoung’s stomach to do a flip. 

“Such a flirt,” Doyoung murmured, feeling bashful under Yuta’s gaze. 

After some more practice and after having Doyoung tell him how to space the small lumps of dough, Yuta worked quickly without making too many mistakes. The balls were fairly similar in size so Doyoung didn’t have anything to complain about. Plus, Yuta seemed proud of himself, gently patting the dough with a placid smile on his lips. 

With the production like they had going on, Doyoung took a short break to have the food Yuta had prepared for him. He took a few bites here and there, taking a couple sips of his tea to wash everything down. 

Yuta actually looked in his element now. Though he wasn’t doing anything extraordinary, he was doing all his tasks well; the air around him had changed in only a day – he no longer seemed awkward, finding his own place and rhythm in the bakery. That definitely eased Doyoung’s heart. 

Yuta would do well and that definitely made Doyoung happy. 

Yuta’s happiness had in part also become Doyoung’s. 

He really had it quite bad and he couldn’t even begin to explain as to why he felt the way he did. It just happened somehow. And Doyoung was glad. He was glad that Yuta showed up at his door and tilted his world off its axis. He was glad that Yuta added something new to Doyoung’s ordinary, boring life – a life he didn’t view as boring until now. Yuta had managed to add colour into Doyoung’s mundane existence, and Doyoung was absolutely thankful because he finally got to see what he was missing all this time. 

“What now?” Yuta asked, turning around to look at Doyoung, the latter of which was sipping on his drink. 

“Muffins,” Doyoung stated. 

“Okay... what do I do?” 

With a pleased grin, Doyoung ordered Yuta around, telling the man to grab everything needed. However, he also didn’t let Yuta do everything alone. Doyoung only got Yuta to grab some of the lighter things, getting the rest himself to not put any unnecessary strain on Yuta’s healing body. 

Yuta watched Doyoung intently as the younger prepared the mixture, adding in extra ingredients to the bowl per Doyoung’s request. 

They had a good rhythm going for them. 

So good in fact, that Doyoung now realised he was far ahead of his schedule for the morning. 

With that, he decided to take a break. 

Doyoung leaned against the counter, grabbing his mug to finish the remnants of his tea, now significantly colder and less pleasing that it was when Yuta brought it over. As he did that, Yuta played with the flour covering the worktop, a child-like joy written across his face. It was cute to say the least. 

Doyoung wanted to say that out loud, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so, mainly because he knew he’d just get embarrassed. But then again, he wasn’t exactly full of shame last night when he... well, when he did what he did, whatever that actually was. 

Speaking of the previous night, it felt wrong to not have mentioned it yet. 

Doyoung didn’t even know how to start. 

“What happened last night?” Doyoung asked. That was the best he could have done. He looked at Yuta, the older man halting his movements, meeting his eyes with Doyoung. “All of that, what was it?” 

“Is it not obvious?” 

Doyoung gulped, shrugging. “What’s obvious?” 

“That I like you,” Yuta said. “I meant what I said last night.” 

The younger briefly looked down to his feet, a blush creeping up to his face. “You do?” He questioned further, his tone hopeful. 

Yuta nodded, reaching his hand out and wrapping it around Doyoung’s wrist. The younger looked back up, their gazes locking. “I do,” he stated. “I really do. Do you?” 

Doyoung couldn’t contain his smile, his eyes lighting up, nodding in response. “I do. I like you too.” 

“That’s a relief,” Yuta exhaled, chuckling softly. “I was worried I might have... pressured you into doing something you didn’t want.” 

“I wanted to kiss you,” Doyoung assured. “I want to. Even now. I’d like it if you kissed me now too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

With that, Yuta took steps closer towards the baker. Doyoung placed his drink aside, his breath getting caught in his throat as Yuta got in his personal space, their chest flush together, lips inches apart. They both exchanged subtle smiles, Doyoung’s heart fluttering at the sight of Yuta so close, no longer shrouded in the darkness of the night. 

“When I first saw you,” Yuta began, voice hushed and raspy, the sound sending chills down Doyoung’s spine, “I thought I was dead. How else would I explain seeing an angel?” 

Doyoung snorted, shaking his head at the absurdity. 

“I’m not joking,” Yuta argued, rubbing his hands on Doyoung’s sides. “I actually thought that! I was so surprised to see a beauty like you on top of me. I was either dead or having a great dream.” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“Maybe,” Yuta agreed. “But it’s true. I still think you might be an angel though.” 

Doyoung rolled his eyes, his fondness for Yuta spelled out clearly in his expression. 

“I must have done something right in my past life to have ended up here.” 

“You’re such a flirt,” Doyoung pointed out, leaning into Yuta’s hand when the older man cupped his cheek, one hand still holding onto Doyoung’s waist. 

“Can’t argue with that. And you’re absolutely stunning,” Yuta murmured, closing the gap between them, joining their plush lips together for a slow and tender kiss. Doyoung hummed into the exchange, throwing his arms over Yuta’s neck, one hand tangling in Yuta’s long, dark hair, twirling the strands in between his fingers. 

Soon enough, Doyoung granted Yuta’s eager tongue entrance, indulging himself in the heavenly feeling. He could imagine how heavenly it would feel to be laid down and just kissed like he was right now; he could already feel how he’d become overwhelmed with the pleasure flooding his system, mind hazy and body aflame with a deep hunger for more. 

Yuta pulled Doyoung’s middle closer to him, their lower halves meeting halfway. Doyoung still wanted more, though. He wanted to feel so much more. He wanted to have Yuta slip his hand under his shirt, to trace the curve of his spine with his fingertips and elicit low murmurs from him. 

Doyoung was getting greedy. It was hard to blame him though; he had been deprived of such pleasure for too long, and even then, it had never felt as heavenly as it did when it was Yuta who held and touched him. Doyoung didn’t exactly know what it was that he wanted, but that didn’t matter. All he cared about was being even closer, to feel more and more of what Yuta had to give. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung murmured breathlessly as their lips parted. 

Said man hummed, kissing the corner of Doyoung’s mouth before moving to his jaw, dropping down even further to pepper his neck with slow, languid kisses. His grip on the younger man tightened, keeping him closer as he adorned Doyoung’s skin with light affection, earning pleasured croons from Doyoung. 

The baker tugged on Yuta’s hair, throwing his head back to let Yuta cover more skin with his attentive lips. 

“So beautiful,” Yuta whispered. “You’re so beautiful, Doie.” 

At that, Doyoung whimpered. The name was sweet and cute – something that only Yuta could have come up with for him – and it did so much to Doyoung, his heart swelling with an airy, giddy sense of joy. 

“Stunning,” Yuta continued, kissing the skin just below Doyoung’s ear. 

Doyoung’s eyes were shut, mouth agape as he revelled in the sensation of Yuta’s lips, his skin and his warmth. He couldn’t focus on anything else, fully intoxicated by Yuta’s overpowering presence. The older definitely knew what he was doing, driving Doyoung completely wild. All it took from him was a couple of kisses in all of the right places, his hands trailing up and down his side and drawing him in closer. 

Doyoung felt like laying himself down on the counter, giving himself over to Yuta, trusting him entirely to keep adding onto the blissful pleasure he was offering the man. 

And maybe he would have done that, if not for the fact Jaehyun had walked in. 

“Am I interrupting?” The man asked. Jaehyun was stood by the counter, awkward and uncomfortable as he had just stumbled upon not only his boss, but also his friend and his new co-worker getting heated on the kitchen counter. 

Yuta stepped back, clearing his throat as he looked over to Jaehyun. 

It took a few extra seconds for Doyoung to process what was happening, and when he did, his face burned bright red. The baker put himself together as best as he could, ignoring that his knees felt like they were made of gelatine, mind hazy and body hot. “Jaehyun,” he said. “You’re early.” 

“I said I’d stop by earlier to help,” Jaehyun pointed out. 

He did do that. 

“But I see you have things all sorted,” Jaehyun added, looking over to the trays in the oven. 

“Oh- yes, we got everything sorted. We were just taking a break.” 

“I can see that.” 

Doyoung wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Well, is there anything else to do?” 

The baker nodded. “You can get started on the cookies.” 

“On it,” Jaehyun said, brushing past the sight he had just walked in on. He grabbed his apron, tying it and then going over to grab the ingredients needed. As he walked past, he made sure to offer Doyoung a nod – it was a sort of approval, congratulating Doyoung without actually saying it outright. 

When Jaehyun got to work, Yuta let out a shaky laugh, burying his face in Doyoung’s shoulder. 

That sure was eventful. 

*** 

With the festival in full swing, Doyoung finally led Yuta up to his favourite spot, their hands clasped together as the ascended up the hill. The higher they went, the colder it got, but luckily, they both had plenty on to keep them warm on their small hike. Doyoung thankfully had a coat that fit Yuta well enough, however he knew that they’d have to get Yuta some new clothes sooner or later because there was no way he could only wear the few oversized things in Doyoung’s wardrobe. 

At first, Doyoung worried slightly about going up the hill, fearing that it would put far too much strain on Yuta. However, the older man was doing great, even stating how nice it was to get some fresh air and have a bit of exercise. 

Before coming up, the both of them joined Doyoung’s friends at the festival. Everyone grew a liking to Yuta in the matter of minutes – even if Yuta didn’t spare any of the men much attention at first. After he warmed up to the company, Yuta was happy to chime in here and there, fitting in perfectly into Doyoung’s close group of friends. Of course, everyone was curious about where Yuta came from, but Doyoung gave the same explanation he offered Jaehyun and everyone went along with it. 

The subject of Yuta’s relationship with Doyoung also became a popular topic in their conversations, but that was mainly Doyoung’s fault for acting so different to how he usually was. Jaehyun locked eyes with Doyoung and then spared Yuta a glance, the image of the men in the bakery in the morning still fresh in his mind. 

To answer the hot question amongst everyone, Doyoung shyly reached for Yuta’s hand as they were walking, their fingers slotting together like they had the night before. They didn’t say anything, but it was obvious to their friends that there was something intimate happening between the two of them. 

Doyoung and Yuta enjoyed the festival together, taking part in some of the games set up around the centre of the village, well-lit booths lined up, throngs of people walking around and participating in different events, buying snacks and handmade crafts only available for the festival. 

Yuta had mentioned briefly that he never had a proper chance to celebrate the festival, practically always by the King’s side during the celebration, so seeing the man be so carefree and happy as he threw small hoops across a game stall or when he picked out a few snacks or little memorabilia was just that bit more meaningful. Yuta was having fun – plenty of it, actually, and that warmed Doyoung’s heart. 

The men walked around for a while, and after making their rounds, they went back to Doyoung’s home to leave all their knick-knacks, get dressed in something warmer, as well as to grab a blanket which they then carried up the hill. 

During their walk up, the men talked about this and that, finding simple comfort in each other’s company. 

And finally, they made it to the top. 

“Here we are,” Doyoung announced, straightening his back and taking a deep breath of the chilly, fresh air. “What do you think?” He asked, turning to look at Yuta. 

The older man joined Doyoung at his side, taking a good luck of the sight beneath them. The glowing lights from the village could be seen through the branches of the evergreen trees, the sky clear with the moon and stars hanging high above. It was beyond beautiful, the autumnal colours painting the canvas below with specks of dark green still around. 

Further beyond, in the direction of the capital, was a winding river which led to the sea. It coiled and swirled like a ribbon across miles and miles of land, small villages dotted along the winding river. 

“It’s stunning,” Yuta uttered, looking in awe at the horizon. 

Doyoung smiled, pleased. “I’m glad you like it. It’s my favourite spot, though I only come here once a year,” he added. “I hate the climb.” 

The older laughed. “It’s really not that bad.” 

“And? You’re fit and athletic,” Doyoung pointed out. “I, on the other hand, am a baker that barely leaves the house.” 

“We have to change that,” Yuta said, bumping his shoulder against Doyoung. “Once I’m all better, we’re coming here every week.” 

Doyoung wanted to cry at the thought of that. Instead, he groaned, slumping into Yuta’s side. “Please, no,” he whined, bringing out amused chuckles from the older man. “Anything but that.” 

“You can always join me on my morning runs,” Yuta suggested. 

“You do _not_ ,” Doyoung uttered. 

“I do,” Yuta confirmed. “Running’s one of the best ways to keep fit. It also improves my condition,” Yuta said, bringing his lips closer to Doyoung’s ear. “I’m quite durable. I can take a lot of physical activity.” 

If it wasn’t for the man’s suggestive tone, Doyoung wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Yuta was being quite obvious with what he meant. 

Doyoung snorted, pushing himself off. “Well, I’m not joining you on any runs and that’s settled.” 

Yuta shrugged. “Fine by me.” 

After that, Doyoung meticulously laid the blanket he had hauled up on the ground, sitting himself down. He patted the spot next to himself, ushering Yuta to join his side, and of course, the older did just so. 

The men sat side by side, their hands and shoulders brushing together. 

For a while, they said nothing, simply enjoying the silence. They didn’t have to say anything, their breaths and the breeze filling in the quiet instead. 

When they finally started filling the gaps, it was still as serene as before. 

“You don’t get to see sights like these from the palace,” Yuta mused, his pinkie gently teasing Doyoung’s hand, almost pleading to link their hands together. “Sure, the views aren’t that bad, but it’s mostly just the rest of the capital. You don’t get to see so much nature, and the lights during the festival are practically blinding. But here? It feels so tranquil,” he said, an awe filled smile plastered across his face. “I’m glad I ended up here. But not just because of the views,” Yuta added, turning to look at Doyoung, that same glimmer in his eye as when he was observing the wonderful sights. 

Doyoung shook his head, lips curved in a bashful grin. “I’m glad you ended up here too.” 

With that, Yuta reached his hand out, gently cupping Doyoung’s jaw to bring him in, their lips brushing together. “Are you sure?” The older man whispered. “About this,” he elaborated. “About me, about seeing where this takes us. Because I like you, and I know you wouldn’t stab me in the heart, but I want you to be sure too.” 

“I’m sure,” Doyoung assured. “I’ve never felt like this before. So, I’m sure. I’m sure about you, about me, and about us.” 

Their hearts and minds set in stone, the men closed the gap in between them, lips slotting perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle. 

And there, under the clear autumn night sky, with millions of stars shinning above them, the men sealed their deal, promising to follow the path laid out by their joined hearts. 

*** 

“You did well, Doyoung,” Mrs Han praised after checking up on Yuta’s wounds, all in various stages of their healing process. Most injuries were now nothing more than some scar tissue, and even the biggest wound of them all was sealed up. There was still some discolouration around the skin, but Mrs Han assured that that would disappear sooner than later. 

The doctor had returned three days after the festival, not only bringing plenty of various remedies and goods from her trip, but also the devastating news of the fallen King and Queen. The official declaration came the day after when a royal messenger had stopped by, reading out the report and letter written by the Prince whose coronation was bound to take place by the end of the next month. 

Once the news was out, the air around Yuta had changed. Doyoung noticed it immediately, and the only way he could have described it was as if there was a heavy weight lifted from Yuta’s shoulders. The man had at that point let go of the last thing keeping him from being truly free. 

Doyoung couldn’t have been happier. 

“You should be fine to move around how you like,” the woman said, this time directing her words at Yuta. “You might want to try and exercise, but I’d advise against bending forward too much,” she added. 

“But I can still move around?” Yuta asked. 

Mrs Han nodded. “You can run, lift weights, whatever it is that you want,” she explained. “But it might hurt to do sit ups for the time being. However, if you can take the pain, you should be fine.” 

Yuta hummed, nodding as he processed the doctor’s words. 

“In that case, I’ll get going,” Mrs Han announced. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Yuta,” she said, sending a warm smile the man’s way. The doctor was the only other person apart from Doyoung to know the truth surrounding Yuta – that he was a knight wounded in battle. It was impossible to keep it from her, especially when she asked about all the injuries, asking how and when they were caused. 

“Thank you,” Doyoung said, helping the woman pack up her tools. 

“No need to thank me, Doyoung,” she assured. “You did a great job tending to his wounds. You should be proud.” 

Doyoung smiled. 

“Well, that’s it for me,” the woman said. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll see you two boys around.” 

Mrs Han walked herself out, leaving Doyoung and Yuta to their own devices in Doyoung’s bedroom. Well, technically, it had now become _their_ bedroom. Maybe it was too fast to move in together, but then again, they had been together since the start so there wasn’t any great change from how things used to be aside from the fact that the men were now together. 

It had been over a week since the festival at that point, and the men had already fallen into a rhythm. 

They’d wake up, share a few kisses before getting up and having breakfast. They would then get ready and head downstairs, putting on their aprons and preparing for their day ahead. 

Everything went smoothly, and Doyoung found himself happier than he had ever been. 

And it was all thanks to Yuta. 

Having Yuta around, receiving kisses, tender touches and adoring looks from the man had Doyoung feeling wonderful. He was filled with joy, and Yuta’s kisses filled him to the brim with happiness. He was glad to have the older man around, even if it still baffled him as to how he fell for Yuta so quickly. Maybe it was his charms, or maybe it was the fact that there was always something different and special to how Yuta looked at him. 

Whatever it was, Doyoung was glad. 

“So, looks like I’m open for business,” Yuta declared. “You patched me up good, Doie. You should consider becoming a doctor.” 

“I’ll stick to baking if you don’t mind.” 

Yuta chuckled. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, taking Doyoung’s hand in his, pulling the younger man in closer. Doyoung stood in between Yuta’s spread legs, one hand linked with Yuta’s, the other at Yuta’s jaw, his thumb stroking over the sharp edge. “You look beautiful,” Yuta added quietly, causing Doyoung to blush. “Truly.” 

“You’re such a flirt,” Doyoung chuckled. 

The older man brought Doyoung’s hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss to the back of his hand. He kissed over each knuckle before kissing at Doyoung’s wrist, treasuring each slither of skin. 

“And what’s all this about?” Doyoung asked breathlessly, Yuta’s feather light touch sending chills down his spine. 

“Can’t I kiss you?” 

“You can,” Doyoung replied. “But my lips are up here.” 

Yuta snorted, pressing a lingering kiss to Doyoung’s vein. “I know,” he mused. “But that’s not the only place made to be kissed, Doie.” 

Doyoung bit his lips, his eyes meeting with Yuta in the middle. “Where else then?” He asked, stroking Yuta’s jawline, following the older where he was leading him. 

The man smirked, planting a hand on Doyoung’s hip, pulling him in. Yuta slipped his hand under Doyoung’s shirt, fingers lightly caressing his lower back whilst his lips continued to kiss his wrist. He drew Doyoung nearer and nearer, until finally, there was no other option for Doyoung than to sit down on Yuta’s lap, straddling the older man’s thighs as Yuta continued with his delicate kisses. 

“So many places,” Yuta whispered, gently letting go of Doyoung’s hand, bringing attention to his long throat instead. Doyoung’s lips curved up, throwing his head back to allow better access to his skin, waiting for Yuta to find that one spot that managed to leave Doyoung breathless. 

Doyoung threw his arms around Yuta’s neck, nails carefully scratching the skin beneath. 

Yuta’s lips found the spot, sucking and licking over it, earning a soft mewl from Doyoung just like it always did. It felt wonderful, and Doyoung would have never imagined to find such pleasure in such a small thing, yet there he was. 

Slowly, Yuta travelled lower down, kissing at Doyoung’s collarbones, using his free hand to loosen the straps keeping Doyoung’s blouse tied together, exposing more of Doyoung’s chest. He kissed over the man’s sternum, each kiss sending shivers down the younger’s spine. 

Doyoung felt his resolve crumble with every passing second, subconsciously digging his blunt nails into Yuta’s shoulders, his breathing becoming unsteady as his body already understood where Yuta was taking things. He wanted it. Doyoung wanted everything Yuta was offering, even if he wasn’t exactly sure how things would play out. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung murmured, his body arched back to encourage Yuta to go even lower. 

“Doie,” the older replied, the inherit sweetness of his voice mixed with dark lust, already excited from just how willing Doyoung was. “What do you want?” He asked, soft and caring, inching Doyoung’s shirt up to expose his abdomen. 

“You.” 

Yuta chuckled, placing a delicate kiss at Doyoung’s navel, liquid heat flooding to that particular spot. “How?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Doyoung replied honestly, once more causing Yuta to laugh. 

“Have you ever done this? With a man, or in general?” 

“Never felt the need,” the younger stated. “Is that weird?” 

“Not at all,” Yuta assured, pulling Doyoung up so that the men’s faces were inches apart. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, Doie. And, I’ll be happy to show you a thing or two. Does that sound good?” 

“Just a thing or two? That’s not a lot,” Doyoung replied jokingly. 

Yuta shook his head, bringing their lips together briefly. “Maybe a bit more than that,” he added. “Are you okay with that?” 

Was he? Of course he was. It felt right if it was with Yuta. Everything felt right when it was with Yuta. Doyoung had never been surer of anything until he had Yuta come into his life; he thought he was meant to spend the rest of his life in the same way he had spent it up until that point, he felt somewhat sure of it then, but now he knew that that wasn’t how his life was meant to play out. Doyoung was only a hundred precent sure of his life now, all thanks to Yuta crashing into his life like a shooting star, always fated to land in Doyoung’s arms. 

So yes, Doyoung was sure. If it was Yuta, he was sure. 

“Yes,” Doyoung replied. “I’m okay with that.” 

Upon hearing that, Yuta flipped their positions, laying Doyoung down on the bed. The younger yelped, the noise fading out into a giggle, surprised but pleased. 

“Careful there,” Doyoung cautioned. 

“I’m fine,” Yuta assured. “Besides, you heard what the doctor said; I can handle some exercise.” 

Doyoung snorted. “Is this exercise for you?” 

Yuta rolled his eyes, crawling over Doyoung’s frame and bracketing the man’s head in between his arms. “You’re better than exercise, Doie.” 

“Was that supposed to be a compliment, because it really fell flat.” 

“Oh shut,” Yuta said, laughing at Doyoung. 

“No,” Doyoung replied. “You’ll have to try better than that.” 

The older man shook his head, a wide grin plastered across his face. “Okay,” he muttered. “You’re better than everything in the world,” he said, and though he was joking about, Doyoung could also hear some sincerity to it. 

With everything that had happened in the course of the past month or so, Yuta had made his point come across quite well; to him, Doyoung truly was someone special; Doyoung had offered his shelter and comfort, bearing with Yuta when most people would have most likely given up – especially when Yuta was unresponsive and cold. And maybe, Doyoung would have been one of those people too if it wasn’t for something constantly telling him to try, even if the chances of ever getting rewarded for his deeds would never come around. He was glad he listened to his intuition, now finding the greatest reward of them all in Yuta’s affection. 

Doyoung had found someone who looked at him like he was the world, the stars and the universe combined. They didn’t even need words to express how they felt towards one another – they could just sense it through glances, kisses and tender touches. That was more than enough for them to know. 

“That’s more like it,” Doyoung uttered softly, his smile evident in his voice. He hooked a finger under the chain of Yuta’s necklace, inching the man closer. 

Yuta complied, closing the distance to adorn Doyoung’s lips with a sweet kiss. He licked over the bottom lip, slowly parting Doyoung’s mouth open with his tongue. Doyoung hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as Yuta explored his tepid heat, still tasting the sweetness of the frosting on one of the cupcakes Yuta had earlier that day. 

The younger tangled his fingers in Yuta’s long hair, tugging at the strands when Yuta did something particularly well, his body working on its own accord. 

“You’re stunning, Doie,” Yuta uttered breathlessly, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips with the younger chasing after him. “So beautiful,” he added, pecking the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, then going down and down until he found himself at Doyoung’s midriff. He lifted Doyoung’s blouse up, stroking his hands over the smooth skin all whilst his mouth was fixed onto the baker’s navel, taunting the waistband of his pants. 

Doyoung was left mewling softly, the touch unlike anything he had felt before. Yuta was so careful and loving with every touch and every kiss. He was treating Doyoung exactly as he viewed him: like the most beautiful and delicate thing in the entire universe. 

“I’m the luckiest man alive,” Yuta added quietly, stroking his palms down Doyoung’s sides, trailing them to his waistband. “Are you okay with this?” 

Doyoung nodded without hesitation, the look in Yuta’s eyes warming his heart but also sending sheer lust down to his navel. Seeing Yuta in between his legs simply did something unspeakable to Doyoung, his cock twitching with excitement in his underwear. 

With Doyoung’s permission, Yuta slipped down the clothes left on Doyoung, taking them completely off and throwing them off the side of the bed. 

The younger felt exposed, his length up by Yuta’s face. He expected to feel ashamed, or maybe embarrassed, but luckily, he wasn’t. Yuta’s eyes lit up at the sight, filling Doyoung with a sense of relief. Doyoung relaxed, focusing only on Yuta who was gently peppering his inner thigh with light kisses. 

“Stunning,” Yuta whispered, his face buried against Doyoung’s thigh. The younger wanted to pull Yuta closer in, to feel his lips somewhere higher up instead of being teased by him. But he enjoyed the build-up too. 

Yuta spread Doyoung’s legs further apart, stroking up a slither of skin in the inside of his thigh, going up to Doyoung’s crotch. He stopped just before Doyoung could let out a moan, smirking at the younger man. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung muttered. “Such a tease.” 

“I know,” Yuta admitted. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.” 

“I know it will.” 

Taking Doyoung by surprise, Yuta lowered his head down, leaving a feather-light kiss on Doyoung’s crown. The younger gasped, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard. 

But that was only the start of it. 

The small kiss became more when Yuta licked over the tip, pressing his tongue flat to the slit. He licked up the droplets of precum trickling out of the slit, collecting the clear release on his tongue with a pleased hum before he wrapped his pretty lips around the tip, tongue rubbing alongside the underside as Yuta sunk himself down. 

Doyoung grasped onto the bedsheets, scrunching and pulling at the fabric, only to bring one hand to Yuta, clutching onto his hair to steady himself. 

Yuta smirked, looking up at Doyoung through his long lashes. He definitely knew what to do to make Doyoung feel good. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung crooned, his breath getting stuck in his throat when Yuta hollowed his cheeks and dragged himself up, his mouth leaving Doyoung’s erection with a wet noise, strands of spit and precum bridging in between the tip and Yuta’s lips. “God,” he added, glancing down at Yuta. The man was absolutely ravishing; his dark eyes were blown out, plump lips glossed with a mixture of bodily fluids, hair a mess from Doyoung tugging on it. 

And even though he looked like he could have devoured Doyoung right there and then, his lust awaking the more animalistic side of him, he still looked up at Doyoung with upmost fondness and affection. No matter what, Yuta would always be utterly smitten by the younger. 

“Does that feel good?” Yuta asked, earning himself an enthusiastic nod and mewl. “That’s good, Doie. I’ll make you feel even better. I promise.” 

Doyoung could only anticipate the rest. 

Yuta leaned back down, taking Doyoung’s length back into the wet warmth of his mouth, this time enveloping more of the man’s cock. He took Doyoung whole, his nose buried in Doyoung’s pubis. He took it with ease, shocking Doyoung with how quickly he was able to nestle himself so deeply, Doyoung’s leaking tip brushing at the back of Yuta’s throat. That didn’t seem to faze the older who kept looking up at Doyoung with the same pleased glint in his eyes. 

Just as Doyoung began to think that that was the best thing he had every experienced, Yuta proved him wrong by once more hollowing his cheeks, dragging his wet lips up Doyoung’s length. But this time, instead of leaving Doyoung’s dick, he went back down, bobbing his head up and down, drawing out bawdy cry out of Doyoung. 

The drag was spectacular, causing Doyoung to feel like his body was aflame. He was panting heavily, a multitude of obscene noises slipping past his parted lips. 

“Yuta I-” Doyoung didn’t know what he was going to say, his mouth moving before he could even think. 

“It’s okay,” Yuta assured, moving up. Doyoung’s cock twitched, already missing the warmth which Yuta’s mouth offered. “Do you think you’re ready?” 

Doyoung nodded and Yuta smiled warmly in return. 

Hastily, Yuta shimmied out of his pants and shirt, throwing the articles of clothing down to the floor, adding to the small pile by the bed. He then placed three fingers in his mouth, drenching the digits with his spit, all whilst his eyes were still locked with Doyoung’s. The younger of the two held his breath, watching Yuta intently. 

Doyoung was keen to go further, lust coiling at his groin, mind going hazy with the euphoric sensation. The sight of Yuta’s dick also added to that blazing wanton, his body going haywire just at the thought of what Yuta was about to do. 

“Pass a pillow,” Yuta said, retracting his soaked fingers. 

The younger did as told, handing a pillow to Yuta who placed it under the man’s hips. It was a small change, but Doyoung had to admit that it felt somewhat better than being flat on the bed. 

Finally, Yuta brought his digits down to Doyoung’s ass, his thumb gently running down his perineum whilst his index teased Doyoung’s puckered rim. The younger took in a shaky inhale, taking a fistful of the duvet beneath him. 

“Tell me if anything feels wrong,” Yuta said, leaning over to kiss Doyoung. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Doyoung assured. “I know you won’t.” 

Yuta closed the gap again, this time kissing Doyoung until the younger was left breathless, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Doyoung felt so light, so full of warmth and – dare he say it – love. He felt loved. It was a new feeling – not that Doyoung has never experienced love before, because he has, but this was completely different. This wasn’t the familial or platonic love he was used to; what Yuta was offering him was something new, and something utterly beautiful that Doyoung couldn’t fully comprehend how he managed so long without it. 

Falling in love so quickly was ridiculous, but it felt so right. And Doyoung wanted more. He wanted to love Yuta, and to feel loved by him, for as long as was humanly possible. 

When their lips parted, their gazes stayed locked. Doyoung saw a reflection of his own feelings within Yuta’s warm eyes. He could tell that Yuta was just as infatuated with Doyoung as he was with Yuta. 

Which is why the words which left Doyoung came so easily. 

“I think I love you,” Doyoung confessed. He cupped Yuta’s face, holding him tenderly. 

“You- are you serious?” Yuta asked, taken completely aback. 

“Yeah,” the younger replied, unable to contain his smile. “I think I love you. This is what it’s supposed to feel like, right?” 

Yuta nodded, his own smile brighter than the sun. 

“In that case, I love you.” 

“I wanted to say it first,” Yuta admitted, no hint of bitterness in his voice. “I love you too, but I’m sure you know that by now. I’ve liked you since I first saw you, even if it didn’t seem like it. But I love you.” 

Once more, Doyoung tugged Yuta down by the man’s necklace. And, as they kissed, crooning and moaning into each other, Yuta circled Doyoung’s rim before he finally pushed his index in. 

Doyoung stilled at the intrusion, his eyes and mouth wide open as he struggled to come to terms with the unusual feeling. Yuta soothed him, constantly leaving reassuring kisses along the man’s throat and lips, murmuring gentle words of praise, waiting patiently for Doyoung to adjust to the spread. 

It was so unusual, but Doyoung didn’t hate it. 

“Just try to relax,” Yuta whispered. “It’s okay. I know it feels weird, but you’re doing great, Doie.” 

After a moment longer, Doyoung grew accustomed to the spread of his walls. One finger was fine, and when Yuta started slowly pumping the digit in and out, Doyoung understood the appeal. The man whimpered and moaned, thoroughly enjoying how his muscles gave way to Yuta’s finger. 

Soon enough, Doyoung was pleading for more. 

And Yuta delivered. 

The older man added in another finger, spreading Doyoung further apart. 

Doyoung dragged his nails up Yuta’s bare back, relying on Yuta to take the lead in their kiss as he felt weak in his blissful state of being. The way Yuta pumped in and out of him, the pace that he set and the force with which he moved was driving Doyoung mad, his body weak as it was overrun with sheer passion for Yuta. 

Finally, Yuta slipped in his third digit. 

At that point, the stretch was painful in an arousing type of way. Doyoung’s face scrunched up, his breathing heavy and unsteady. He felt like he could cry, but Yuta’s attentive, caring kisses did the job of calming him down enough to enjoy the sting of his tight walls giving way. 

“So good, Doie,” Yuta praised. “You’re doing so good, love. Do you think you can handle it?” 

Though he wasn’t exactly sure, he also didn’t want to spend the rest of their time together without taking the next step. 

“Yes,” Doyoung replied, throat strained from the various noises which had left him prior. 

Slowly, Yuta pulled out of Doyoung. As soon as he was left empty, Doyoung whimpered. It felt wrong. He felt cold and empty, and though he knew it wouldn’t last long, he still whined in protest. 

“Cute,” Yuta murmured. The man stroked his dick slowly, dragging the precum leaking from his length along his length. If Doyoung knew things would have turned out this way, he would have made an effort to buy some sort of lotion to use. Yuta must have noticed Doyoung’s concern, bringing his fingers back to his mouth to wet them some more, this time using the spit to add to the precum on his cock. “It’ll be okay,” he comforted. “But if it hurts at all, tell me.” 

“Okay,” Doyoung agreed. 

After a few more strokes paired with low groans, Yuta lined himself up at Doyoung’s entrance. Before he pushed in, he looked Doyoung right in the eye, waiting for a sign from the younger. 

Doyoung nodded, and with that, Yuta slowly sunk himself in. 

Doyoung knew as soon as Yuta got his tip inside that it would be completely different to the three fingers Yuta had prepped him with. The stretch burned much more, and though the spit and precum aided with the glide, it was still absolutely mind-numbing. 

Yuta was as gentle as he could have possibly been. He moved slowly in small increments to make it easier on Doyoung. However, from the man’s expression, it was clear that Yuta was just as affected as Doyoung. 

“God,” Yuta groaned, grasping on the bedsheets for dear life. “You’re so fucking tight.” 

Doyoung whimpered, the low tone of Yuta’s voice causing his cock to twitch. 

Yuta hung his head low, his length only half-way in. They were slowly getting there, and Doyoung braved it all the way to the end. 

Finally, Yuta had submerged the entirety of his cock into Doyoung’s velvety warmth. His girth stretched Doyoung wide open, far more than his fingers did. 

Both men were panting, their hot breaths exchanging in between their parted lips. 

“How does it feel?” Yuta asked after a short breather. 

“Odd,” Doyoung replied. “Odd but good.” 

“Do you want me to move or do you need a minute?” 

“I think you can move,” the younger said. “Just- take it slow.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s about making you feel good,” Yuta assured, laying a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek. 

“And you?” 

“I feel amazing already,” Yuta said. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” 

Doyoung chuckled, pulling Yuta to his lips. “Don’t stop kissing me,” he ordered. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Yuta finally started moving, slowly pulling out. As he rolled his hips back, his lips were constantly attached to Doyoung’s, smiling back into the kiss at every single murmur that came from the back of the younger man’s throat. He treasured every sound deeply, storing it in his heart. 

Just as Yuta was about to pull out completely, he pushed back in. He repeated this slowly a few times to get Doyoung used to the sensation, each time drawing out a more beautiful moan from the younger. 

Doyoung wrapped his limbs around Yuta, keeping him close, never letting him go. Now that he knew how being so close felt, every second apart would feel like hell. It just felt so good, so exhilarating and exciting that Doyoung couldn’t truly express his sheer bliss. 

“Harder,” Doyoung pleaded into Yuta’s kiss. “Please.” 

“You sure?” 

Doyoung murmured in response, tightening the grasp he had on Yuta with his legs. 

The older chuckled, but he gladly gave Doyoung what he wanted. He picked up his pace – not by much, but enough to fuck into Doyoung harder than before. Now, Yuta went deeper and deeper until finally his dick brushed past the bundle of nerves that had Doyoung gasping for air, back arching up from the bed. 

“Yuta,” Doyoung cried out, desperately clutching onto Yuta who kept swaying in and out of Doyoung’s eager hole. “There! Right there!” 

Yuta grinned, kissing Doyoung with more fervour, his thrusts picking up in severity and force too until he was continuously hitting the same spot over and over. 

Doyoung felt like he was melting and freezing simultaneously. His senses were crazed, thinking about two things only: his orgasm and Yuta. Those were the only things on his mind, absolutely nothing else. 

Soon enough, Doyoung couldn’t muster a single coherent thought or utterance, his eyes rolling back with pleasure. He was so close, and Yuta was too. They both were nearing their peaks, so when Yuta wrapped his warm hand around Doyoung’s aching, leaking cock, Doyoung cried out, frame shuddering. 

“So good,” Yuta praised, his hand working on Doyoung’s length as he continued to fuck into the younger. “You’re so good, Doie.” 

“I’m-” Doyoung couldn’t finish his train of thought, only panting and moaning as Yuta worked him up to his climax. 

“Don’t hold back, Doie. It’s okay. I love you.” 

That did the trick for Doyoung. With all of his senses bombarded and overwhelmed with Yuta, Doyoung finally came. He spilled out all over Yuta’s hands and his chest, his release devastating him completely. All he could see was stars dancing on a canvas of pure white heat, a static buzz ringing in his ears. 

And just like that, Yuta joined him. 

The man climaxed inside Doyoung, the strong spurt causing Doyoung to cry out again. It was warm and oh so heavenly. 

Yuta rode out their highs, fucking into Doyoung until neither of them could take anymore. 

Finally, all spent, Yuta collapsed on top of Doyoung, his hot and laboured breath washing over Doyoung’s sweat sheened skin. 

“That was- you were amazing,” Yuta uttered breathlessly. “So good.” 

“You too,” Doyoung managed amidst his heavy breathing. 

“I love you,” Yuta added, searching for Doyoung’s hand. When he found it, he locked their fingers together, holding on tightly. 

“I love you too.” 

The men stayed like that for a bit longer, exchanging kisses and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Doyoung was completely smitten, his heart feeling like it could explode any moment from the sheer amount of pure joy he was experiencing. 

They kissed and kissed until their lips were bruised and swollen, and only then did they pull apart. Doyoung missed the stretch and how full Yuta made him feel, but he also knew they couldn’t have stayed like that forever. 

So, they settled for laying side by side, their heads turned to face each other, matching smiles on their faces. 

For some time, they just chatted while Doyoung aimlessly fiddled with Yuta’s necklace and the ring hooked on the chain. He didn’t really pay it much attention, seeing plenty people keep rings as necklace pendants – even Ten had one. 

“Do you want it?” Yuta asked. 

“Huh?” 

“The ring,” Yuta elaborated. “Do you want it?” 

“I... What? I mean, it looks pretty but it’s yours.” 

“It’s not meant to be mine,” the older stated. “It’s a family heirloom,” he explained, looking down at it. “My great grandfather gave it to my great grandmother, and it was passed down. I was supposed to pass it down and continue the tradition. So... do you want it?” 

“Maybe,” Doyoung replied honestly. “But it’s a bit soon.” 

“I know,” Yuta agreed. “But, if I ask a year down the line, would you say yes?” 

“You’ll have to wait and figure out, won’t you?” 

Yuta laughed, rolling over to kiss Doyoung. “I guess I will.” 

***

Spring had finally come about, bringing with it a breath of new life. The tips of trees were filling with colour again and flowers started to bloom once more. The days became longer and the harsh chill of winter was gentler, but the mornings were still on the colder side, meaning that Doyoung could start his day with a nice cup of hot tea without sweating first thing after getting up. 

Doyoung liked to start his morning with a nice drink, especially when it was made by Yuta. There was something about the way the man brewed tea for Doyoung that made it so much tastier. 

With spring, just like any other time of year, there was a demand for so many baked goods and treats. So, Doyoung woke up like he always did – with a sweet kiss and a sleepy _good morning_ from Yuta. He got up, got dressed and had breakfast, usually prepared by Yuta who wanted to practice his cooking skills, improving greatly over the course of the winter season. 

After breakfast, Doyoung went down to the bakery, slipped on his apron and got down to work. He’d work on a fresh batch of bread as Yuta helped him out, doing what Doyoung told him to do without a single complaint – though, when he did complain, it only took a single look with a pout or a lingering kiss to get the man to do Doyoung’s bidding. 

Doyoung had a routine that he kept to. He loved it dearly, finding comfort in its existence, even if it was repetitive and mundane. But Doyoung was content with living a mundane life. He was fine with it and it made him happy. 

It was a simple routine, but Doyoung was content. 

Doyoung loved his routine, his bakery and Yuta. 

He loved his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this big boy. It's been my first time writing doyu so it definitely was a new experience, and I TOTALLY didn't panic that I was doing a bad job with this prompt. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and also to vivi, I hope you enjoyed it! I wish you ALL the best in the new year 💞
> 
> I would also like to thank my beta reader vivy for reading through this fic and helping me edit my late night spelling mistakes and ramblings out. It was a joy to work on this and I wish you all happy holidays!
> 
> My [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/teniljohnyong)  
> My [ CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teniljohnyong)  
> 


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